Hermione's Worst Nightmare
by HeRonFan
Summary: Unable to sleep after the torture, Hermione takes a potion that will exercise all her demons. Determined to make up for leaving her, Ron stays with her but will get more than he bargained for.
1. Arrival

_**HERMIONE'S WORST NIGHTMARE**_

_Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all the characters, etc., mentioned in this story._

_**Summary:**_

_What happened inside Shell Cottage while Harry Apparated with Dobby and Griphook in DH? Find out in these missing scenes. The night from hell continues for Hermione in her dreams as she can't calm down immediately following the torture. Determined to make up for walking away from her months earlier, Ron sits with her through her nightmares and gets more than he bargained for._

_This story could be slipped right into DH up until the funeral for Dobby. However, I decided to have a little fun with it after that._

_**A/N**__: This is actually the first fanfic I ever wrote. Took me 2.5 years to get up the nerve to publish. Hope you like it. My thanks to Fems, for giving me the push to share._

_**Chapter 1: Arrival**_

_Shell Cottage, Bill and Fleur's, Bill and Fleur's, Shell Cottage._

Ron concentrated on those words over and over again. He visualized his brother's cottage as the compressing Apparition bands enveloped him. Deliberation, destination, and determination; those were the essential elements that would deliver him to safety. It was the most important Apparition of his life, but it wasn't his safety that was uppermost in his mind; it was Hermione's. Suddenly, the pressure ceased and Ron had Apparated, kneeling on the ground, with an unconscious Hermione in his arms. They were beyond the reach of the Protego Totalum charm surrounding Shell Cottage.

"Hermione! Hermione!" he half whispered to her urgently. She did not respond. His fingers moved swiftly to her throat trying to find a pulse. They became wet with blood. After a moment that felt like years, he found it. "_Lumos_" he said and the stolen wand tip ignited. He quickly examined the cut on her throat from Bellatrix Lestrange's knife. It was long but seemed to be a surface cut; he didn't think it needed a tourniquet. He wondered vaguely what he would use if it had been deeper, his shirt maybe?

He looked about him. Judging by the dark silhouette of the trees against the night sky and the break in the tree line where the road turned, he was at the end of the laneway of his brother's cottage. It lay in darkness from the road; visible only if you knew it was there to look for. His heart was pounding. They were so close to real safety; to help.

"_Nox_," he said as he slid his left arm under her knees and supported her back with his right to pick her up. As he walked briskly towards the cottage she moaned. His heart skipped a beat in relief as she slowly regained consciousness and looked around terrified. He could feel her begin to shake in his arms.

The torture has stopped, Hermione thought. What was happening now? She could scarcely put thought together. She opened her eyes. There was darkness all around. After a moment she realized she was being carried. Oh no! Not Greyback! She was being taken for more torture in a different form. She began to struggle with the little strength she had left.

Ron held her closer to steady her as the sudden resistance threatened to destabilize him. He reassured her immediately. "It's Ron! I've got you! I've got you! We've escaped. Dobby helped us. I'm taking you to Bill and Fleur's house. Sorry for the bumpy ride. You're going to be OK. You're safe now. You're safe, Hermione." He spoke quickly, as much to calm his nerves as it was to reassure her. He could feel her freeze initially and the slowly begin to relax but she held on to Ron as tightly as she could given her energy as he carried her to the house.

As she had regained consciousness, a cloud had moved and opened up a sliver of moonlight. He had seen her eyes before the realization that it was Ron carrying her. The look of abject terror tightened like a fist around his stomach. He clenched his teeth and cursed the Death Eaters anew under his breath. He had never seen her look so terrified. He hoped he would never see it again.

"I'm alive?" she whispered hoarsely. Her hands groped at Ron's shirt.

The words made Ron's chest feel like it was in a vice. "Of course, you are." He tried to sound confident rather than relieved. A lump formed in his throat. He swallowed it down. _You are not going to break now Weasley! She needs you!_ He scolded himself.

"Harry? Where's Harry?" she said suddenly, raising her head off his shoulder with difficulty. "Is he OK?"

"He and Dobby should be around here somewhere. He threw me one of the wands we got hold of to get you out of there. The last thing I saw before Disapparating, was Harry, Dobby and the goblin together, Bellatrix was screaming, but wandless. Harry had a wand, Hermione. I'm pretty sure they got out."

She relaxed again and settled into his arms as he carried her. Vaguely she thought he could have used a charm to float her to the house, but even feeling as she did, she felt better holding on to Ron, drawing strength from him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her head on his shoulder. Ron was safety. How close she had come to death. She would have welcomed it rather than go through more of the torture curse. She would have welcomed it rather than be given to Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf. Thinking of him made her shudder and begin to shake again. She could smell him. He had come offensively close to her; sniffing her like a hungry dog. She unconsciously held on to Ron a little tighter, as a sniffle escaped her.

Ron shifted her slightly and rested his head against hers, attempting to give her a little comfort. "You're OK. You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise." As he rounded the back of the cottage, he noticed a light on in the kitchen and a bedroom upstairs. Looks like the others made it fine, he thought. Arriving at the back door, he kicked at it, and waited impatiently for the door to open. He was about to yell for his brother when he saw movement behind the door's inside curtains.

Bill Weasley opened the door expectantly, wand at the ready after the last knock, and saw his youngest brother carrying a bloody, bruised, and barely conscious Hermione Granger. She lifted her head slightly at the opening door, squinting at the light from the kitchen behind him that assaulted her. The effort drained her of what little strength she had. Her head lopped down again against Ron's neck, seeking sanctuary.

Bill scanned the pair in front of him. Before him was, his littlest brother who was off helping Undesirable Number 1, Harry Potter, lead the fight against Lord Voldemort. His brother, he knew, suffered from an inferiority complex. The sixth son trying to find his way in the family; a boy who accidentally became best friends with Harry Potter, the Chosen One to end the Dark Lord's reign. He wondered if Ron understood how proud the family was of him. For that matter, he wondered if Ron knew just how much they worried for him and Harry and Hermione too. Their mother had not slept peacefully since he left. At this moment, the worry was unfortunately justified. But, whatever they had just gone through, they were here and whole—more or less. Ron looked pale and exhausted. Worry lines seemed permanently etched into his forehead. Bill moved to take Hermione from his arms but Ron wouldn't let her go. "What the hell's happened?"

Ron was annoyed. _Couldn't that wait_? "I can't tell you Bill, just please…"

"Yeah, all right, of course. Fleur! Help!" Bill yelled as Fleur appeared at the base of the stairs coming immediately from the small bedroom where she had been tending to Mr. Ollivander, the wand maker who had been kidnapped well over a year earlier. The other escaped prisoners, Dean and Luna, had been sitting at the kitchen table and had moved to back up Bill with butcher knives just in case it wasn't who they expected at the door. "There are more casualties!" Bill yelled as he stepped aside to unblock the doorway.

"Harry should be right behind me, so if you hear noise, it'll be him," Ron said quickly. _At least he had better be_, he thought.

Bill nodded, indicating he could see Harry in the distance, but he wasn't coming to the house. Suddenly Harry's pain-filled yell for help pierced the air.

One foot on the threshold, Ron looked back with concern. Torn between seeing to Hermione and helping Harry, he froze momentarily. Something was wrong. Bill alleviated the tug of war within his little brother.

"I'll go help him. You get her inside," said Bill. He suddenly felt very odd giving Ron an order. Perhaps Ron wasn't his little brother anymore—just a younger brother.

"Thanks," said Ron as he made his way through the kitchen ignoring the terrified looks on Luna and Dean. Really, there was no contest. Hermione's welfare was paramount in his mind.

"Mon Dieu!" Fleur exclaimed as she saw Hermione in full light. "Put her in ze room you stayed in," said Fleur. But, she had to find out what was going to be needed for her other casualties too. Hermione moaned as Ron had entered sidestepping his way through the back door. Fleur took that as a good sign and decided she could follow outside. "I'll be right back."

They all followed Bill out to Harry as Ron continued through the kitchen, weaving around the table and chairs. He knocked the table and some milk spilt over a platter of cheese and fruit the others had been feasting on. Ron ignored the food, glad they had left for a moment. He couldn't deal with questions right now. He hoped they hadn't said much to his brother and sister-in-law. He made his way upstairs carrying Hermione who was still crying.

Though just a cottage, it had four small bedrooms upstairs. He pushed open the door to the small blue and white room he had stayed in before. Nothing had changed. The lamp came on magically as he entered, taking care not to hit her head in the narrow doorway. He bent to set her down on the bed when a sharp squeal escaped her and she went limp. His eyes widened, frightened he had hurt her more. An earlier visit to St. Mungo's flashed briefly to his mind. _No, she would be fine. She had to be_. He stared at her in the full light and was momentarily frozen at the sight of her. Blood continued to flow from her neck and stain her clothes which were full of slashes. He swore to himself, not letting the words be audible and possibly frighten her if she were somewhere close to consciousness.

Fleur came back within a minute and set about getting first aid supplies for her newest human patient. Together they sat her up and gave an unconscious Hermione as much Skele-Gro and pain reliever as they could get into her, though not sure how much actually went in as opposed to trickling out the side of her mouth. Fleur was concerned. The action had not roused her. She continued on, hoping the medicine would ease some of the pain she and Ron were about to inflict on her as they examined her.

"'elp me get some of dez bloody clozes off so we can see where to treat 'er," Fleur ordered. Ron was jerked away from his haunting memory by her voice. He hesitated only a second; thinking of Hermione's privacy, but her need for help outweighed any discomfort for either of them in that regard. Fleur looked up at Ron, "Do we dare call a 'ealer?"

"Not if we can help it. The fact we're here has to be kept secret. But, if you know one who is friendly to Muggle-borns, and you think her injuries are too much for us to care for, then I'll take her wherever you say. Harry's location can not be given away, or everything we've gone through will have been for nothing. You've got some training in this don't you? They gave you a little medical training after the attack on Bill? Please, help her," he pleaded. He could barely hold the tears in check, but managed to do so when he looked at his sister-in-law directly.

Ron's reference to Hermione's blood-status stopped any further questions from Fleur as he had hoped. Snatchers had been torturing Muggle-borns and even half-bloods for months now, turning them in for bounty. The Weasleys, pure-bloods but sympathizers and considered traitors to their own kind, were targets under the new regime. Bill could not work anymore due to their sympathies. Kindness and acceptance did not come without a price.

Fleur had glanced briefly at Ron as he spoke. The look of desperation and fear for Hermione was unmistakably love, she thought. She noticed that he had not reacted to her Veela presence at all when she entered the room. That was the mark of a man whose heart was claimed. If he didn't know how deeply he felt about Hermione before, she was sure he would now. She knew only too well how coming close to losing someone you love rearranges all priorities. She thought briefly of the night Bill had been attacked by Fenrir Greyback and then shook herself back to the present.

Slightly uncomfortable, Ron helped Fleur remove an outer shirt and Hermione's shoes and socks. He discovered she had slipped the beaded bag in her right sock to hide it. He could hardly believe she still had it with her. It explained why most of her injuries were on her left side. She was protecting the bag underneath her. Noticing some blood on Hermione's side, Fleur moved her tank undershirt upwards slightly to examine her wounds. Ron winced when he saw how purple Hermione's side was. Bellatrix had used more than the _Cruciatus_ on her.

Fleur looked over the bruises and surmised that Hermione had either been kicked repeatedly or had the _Cruciatus_ used on her multiple times in the same spot. The body contortions could be so violent that the recipient could inadvertently break their own bones from the reaction.

"I 'eard 'er before when I was coming in ze cottage. She screamed when you set 'er down?" Ron nodded. "Look at zese bruises, I'm sure she 'as at least one broken rib wizout even a 'ealer's exam. Ze Skele-Gro will start working on zat, and any ozer broken bones. Let us 'ope zere are no internal problems," she said as she eyed Hermione's stomach and abdomen with concern. She replaced Hermione's shirt. "We'll keep an eye on her temperature. She's very pale, but zat's probably from shock and pain. I gave 'er enough medicine for now, I can give 'er full doses of each in a little bit and if zat doesn't do ze trick, _I _will take 'er to ze 'ealer, Ron. Remember, you are a victim of Spattergroit and can not be seen as well. It will do 'er no good to put yourself in additional danger."

He was about to argue that his cover was blown now, but it didn't matter at this point. All that mattered was Hermione.

"When ze others arrived, Bill sent a Patronus to evacuate your family from ze Burrow, but 'e 'as gone to check just in case. Oh, I guess your illness doesn't matter now," she realized as her mind began to work more clearly.

Ron shook his head, but said nothing. He swallowed, noticing his throat felt very dry. This night was tearing his family's whole world apart. He turned pale and felt a need to vomit but fought it. His eyes darted around the room searching for answers that were not there. He looked back at Hermione. She was all he could do anything for at this moment. This was where he was needed most.

"Please, unwrap zose," Fleur said as she indicated some bandages. Grateful for something to do, he quickly fumbled the wrappings off some gauze and handed it to her.

In addition to the bruises, Hermione had several cuts from the falling chandelier; the particularly nasty one at her throat, from Bellatrix' knife, was within a centimetre of fatal consequences. It was long, but shallow. "Zese are wand cuts." She looked to Ron who would confirm nothing. Some were open and still bleeding, minor ones had begun to coagulate. A black eye hinted at a broken nose. Her face was terribly swollen on the left side. Her left ankle was swollen and purple, and looked tremendously painful. Fleur noticed some blood staining the quilt and realized there was more to do for her.

Fleur raised Hermione's knee next to her and then instructed Ron on the other side of the bed to pull her knee towards him. The manoeuvre rolled Hermione efficiently on to her side so Fleur could examine her back. There were slashes right through her shirt, the result of more wand work. Fleur tutted, cut the remainder of the back of Hermione's tank shirt and then put a Dittany soaked compress to her back and rolled Hermione back onto it.

"OK. If you zink she'll want some privacy from you, I suggest you leave while I continue. I'll put 'er in a dressing gown." Ron nodded. "'ow many more are coming?" She couldn't bring herself to ask Harry outside, or to tell Ron yet about the elf.

"Uh, three. I heard Harry. They should be here by now. I'll be just outside the door for a minute if you need anything for me to get. Then, I better see why Harry hasn't come in yet." He was torn where he should go next. Fleur looked uncomfortable and opened her mouth to say something and then seemed to decide against it. He looked like he couldn't handle any more at that moment.

Ron left the room and stood on the small landing outside the door listening for instructions, happy to fetch whatever was needed and to gain a little breathing space from the fear that had crept over him. However, the moment he closed the door, he wanted to be back in there with her. The vision of Hermione's lacerated back came to him and he looked down at his sleeves. Hermione's blood was on his right sleeve. The sight made him want to be sick. His chest compressed and his breathing shuttered a moment as he took it in. "_Tergio_," he said angrily, pointing the stolen Pettigrew wand at his sleeve. It siphoned off the blood.

A steady repetitive scraping sound drifted in from the small open window in Fleur and Bill's bedroom. He had stayed at this cottage for more than a month and knew the grounds like the back of his hand after his many walks to get out of the house and to be alone. There was nothing in that direction but gardens. He was drawn to it; something was wrong. The window afforded Ron a view of Harry. He was digging. He peered closer and the darkness just before the break of day showed the silhouette of an elf lying nearby, ominously still. His heart sank to his stomach as his chest tightened even more.

"No! No!" he cried, as he pounded the window frame with his fist. The frame splintered, but he didn't care. He shook his head in disbelief and cursed to himself. _This can not be happening!_

As he retreated from the window and turned back angrily to the doorway, he saw Dean coming up the stairs; his face sombre. "Ron," he said gently, almost apologetically.

"Dobby," Ron said quietly as he approached the landing and closed the distance between them. Fleur's voice floated to him through the door. That was a good sign. Hermione must be conscious. He felt like he was in a very strange state; his senses attuned to everything in the house. He could smell the salt air; he felt every heavy footstep he took forward. And sound—the digging outside, the creak of every floorboard and stair, and voices lowered in respect and care. His eyes took in the anguished expression on Dean's face. Dean nodded his head, his lips together in a grim line, barely able to look at Ron. "I gotta help. Could you find me a spade? I've got to tell Hermione first though," said Ron dismally.

Dean nodded again and turned to go with heavy footsteps. "Yeah, I'll help too," he said.

Hermione's muffled voice came through the door and the vice that had been gripping his stomach released slightly and he drew a deep, shuddering breath of relief. He could hear Fleur questioning her.

"Do you know who I am, where you are?

"Fleur. Last time… your beautiful wedding. I don't know where I am. I've never been here."

"Zis is our 'ome. Shell Cottage," she smiled.

"Where does it 'urt 'ermione?"

"Everywhere. I just feel bruised all over. My left ankle hurts more than anywhere else right now. It was jumped on." She stopped, realizing she might have said too much.

"'ow did zis happen?"

"I'm sorry. I can't say unless Harry thinks it's OK."

Ron smiled, listening through the door as he bowed his head against it in relief. His shoulders relaxed and lowered from their tense position. She's all there he thought. Visions of Neville's parents had entered his mind. He did not know how often the _Cruciatu_s had to be done to a person to cause insanity, nor did he want to know. She was OK, that's all that mattered. The fact that Hermione had awakened earlier and asked about Harry had slipped his mind in the worry of her relapse into unconsciousness.

Fleur told Hermione she had placed a medicated compress under her and that she would be due for more medication in about an hour. The Skele-Gro was apparently not the full strength as in hospital so it would not work as fast.

He was about to ask if it was OK that he come in again, when he heard Hermione asking for him. He burst through the door immediately. She was pale and shaking and in need of seeing him and Harry for herself. He went right to her and sat, facing her beside her on the bed and took her hand. She grasped his with both her hands, tightly, hanging on desperately, her eyes becoming glassy.

As he looked at her, Ron darted his eyes sideways towards Fleur to remind Hermione of that additional presence in anything she said. She gave a slight nod indicating her understanding, but emotion overwhelmed her as her eyes drank him in. She could not stop the tears. She was unable to keep her mouth from arching down and trembling. "Thank you." She took a shuddering breath and repeated to him, "Thank you." The words were so small, so inadequate, compared to how grateful she was that he had gotten her out of Malfoy Manor and saved her life.

"Merlin's beard, Hermione." He shook his head, and pulled her in for a hug and just held her as she cried in relief at being safe and sound. After a moment he looked back at Fleur. "Maybe a cup of tea?" he asked.

"Oui, of course," she responded and left the room immediately.

Once alone, her voice drifted up to him. "I thought I would never see you again. I thought…" She could not finish and clung to Ron anew, thinking the worst of the crying was over, she found herself sobbing into his neck.

"Shhhhh. You're safe now. Promise." Ron held her as tightly as he could. Her words echoed his own fears and the emptiness that was threatening to consume him since the torture. He felt hollow, like a walking shell. A tear escaped down his cheek and he wiped it off before she could see. It wouldn't be helpful if the consoler was crying too would it, he thought. Slowly they each gave each other what they needed, knowledge that both were safe and whole and the sobbing began to ease. It felt good to hold her after everything and he was reluctant to end the embrace. The ordeal was over. He noticed the bloodied Ditanny compresses on the nightstand and his eyes moved to her back. It seemed completely healed; no blood coming through the dressing gown now. A little relief went through him finally. He pulled back to look at her and talk. He gently brushed her hair back out of her face, stalling for time.

"Hermione, I have something to tell you," he said cautiously as he tried to figure out how to tell her. His hands remained holding her at her elbows.

She braced herself. His tone was guarded. She searched his face, and then looked past him to the empty, open doorway. Maybe Harry was not alright. Panic entered her eyes. "Harry? Is he OK? Where is he?" She knew Harry would be outside the door pacing the way she would if he were hurt.

"Harry is fine," he reassured her. "I have good news and bad. In the cellar, we found two people being kept prisoner; Luna and Mr. Ollivander."

Hermione gasped. "Luna! Mr. Ol…Are they alright?"

"Luna seems fine. She cut the ropes to free us. Ollivander had been there quite a while; he'll need help and time to get better. They are both here."

"Oh, my God!" She took a moment to digest the information and then looked back at Ron. "That was the good news?" He nodded. "And the bad news?" she asked cautiously.

"Someone _was_ hurt tonight." He took a breath, cleared his throat and continued slowly, "Someone was killed in the escape. Harry is outside—digging a grave."

"Who?" she asked in fear as she swallowed, trying to steel herself. Her mind was still slightly cloudy. She thought of Dean for a moment and her face lost a little colour.

"Dobby," he said quietly, his face contorting slightly trying to contain his own emotions at the whole ordeal.

"No! No!" she began to weep again and leaned in one more time for consolation, knowing he would need it too. _Not an elf! Not an elf for me. Not Dobby_, she thought. They held each other a few moments, and then Ron pulled back as she took deep breaths for control.

"Hermione, if you're OK, I want to go and help dig his grave. I've got to do something. I…"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, of course. I'm fine. Go, but Ron, I want to be there when…"

"OK," he nodded, and stood up and kissed her hair, breathing in the scent for just a moment as he gave her a quick reassuring one-armed hug and turned to leave. At the door, he turned back to look at her puffy and bruised face and winked. He passed Fleur on the stairs on her way with a tray of tea and buttered toast.

Bill entered the cottage a short while later. Hermione could hear the slow, heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. He stopped in the doorway to another bedroom. "Luna. How's Mr. Ollivander?" he said. Hermione craned her head but could not hear the response. "We are close to being ready to bury the elf. If you want to be there, then now is the time to come down." Luna immediately excused herself and got up to go join the others at the grave.

Bill appeared in the doorway where Hermione and Fleur sat. "We'll be burying the elf in just a moment. Ron said you wanted to…"

Hermione nodded, set the tea down on the night stand and began to get out of bed over protests that she should rest.

"You're too stubborn for your own good, you know. He would understand, but, I am sure he would also be honoured," he conceded.

"He saved our lives tonight. I have to go." Hermione said determined. Bill and Fleur then helped her through the darkness to the newly dug grave. Griphook remained in the third bedroom.

Arriving at the grave, she went to stand beside Ron. She winced, but stood on her right foot and leaned against Ron, his arm around her.

_(Grave side "ceremony")_

As Hermione turned to head back to the cottage, she winced in pain as she put weight on her left ankle. Ron grabbed her arm to stop her from falling.

"Hermione," he said as he moved to help her.

"I'm perfectly capable of…" She tried to assert herself, wanting to take back some control that the Death Eaters had stripped away from her.

He cut her off gently. "I know you are. Just, let me help until the Skele-Gro kicks in enough, OK? The ground is uneven. I'll set you down when we're closer to the cottage where there's mown lawn if you want." Then he scooped her up in his arms before she could argue and headed back towards the cottage. Bill and Fleur, following a little behind, exchanged knowing looks and smiled.

"Ron?" said Hermione.

"Yeah?"

"You gave him your shoes," she said quietly.

"Yeah," he said a little hoarsely.

A sniffle escaped her as she hugged him. "You're a good man, Ronald Weasley."

Ron blushed in the darkness. "Let's get you back to bed."

"Ron, I need to stay up. Find out what Harry wants to do," she argued. "I am feeling better," she reassured him.

As they neared the light, he looked at her bruised face, a lump coming to his throat. He set her down and she walked into Bill and Fleur's kitchen this time. To Ron, it felt like a small triumph. Pride was erupting inside him as he watched her. Some colour had returned to her face, but it was still very puffy. He hoped she didn't look in a mirror for a while.

_(Interviews of Griphook and Ollivander take place.)_


	2. Demons Within

_**Chapter 2: The Demons Within**_

Following the interviews with Griphook and Mr. Ollivander, they all tried to get some much needed sleep. The sun had already risen. Hermione had refused the bedroom with Luna, not wanting to be apart from Ron and Harry just yet. The sitting room transformed into a Gryffindor co-ed dorm. The boys had insisted Hermione take the couch if she wouldn't sleep in a bedroom apart from them. Ron had been sleeping on the floor in front of the couch, Harry was in the recliner. Dean was also on the floor opposite the coffee table.

Sleep fell on them quickly. However, within an hour screams punctured the peace, as Hermione's subconscious assaulted her all over again with the torturous events at Malfoy Manor.

Ron and Harry jumped up with wands in hand immediately. Tripping over themselves and each other, they quickly scanned the room, Harry ran to the kitchen to find no one there. He came back to the sitting room and realized Hermione had been dreaming and there was no immediate danger to any of them. Ron was kneeling in front of Hermione to her left holding her upper arms trying to get her to come out of it. Dean was staring blankly as he returned from the dining room, shaking his head at Harry. Harry joined on her right side. He and Ron spoke to her urgently, but calmly. "Hermione, it was a dream. You're safe. Listen to my voice," Ron commanded.

"Everyone is here and safe at Shell Cottage," Harry said realizing it was a bit of a lie.

Her screams woke the whole house. Bill and Fleur emerged from their room with wands raised, Luna had come downstairs quickly too despite being wandless. Only Griphook and Mr. Ollivander remained in their beds due to apathy and condition, respectively.

Ron and Harry exchanged worried looks as Hermione gripped both their forearms fiercely searching for physical reassurance of where she was. She was shaking and covered in a layer of sweat, her eyes were wild and darting between Ron and Harry, her heart was racing. Her breaths were short and laboured. As understanding came to her she realized everyone had entered the sitting room, directing concerned eyes her way. She became embarrassed and apologetic.

"Why don't I sit up with you until you fall asleep," Ron offered.

"No, no. Don't be silly. You need your rest. I think I'll just go and make some tea. You all, please go back to sleep, please."

"I'll make you ze tea. We 'ave slept most of ze night anyway," Fleur offered motioning to herself and Bill.

Hermione took the steeped cup outside on the back steps alone with a blanket, refusing to have company. Alternately, she sat in a chair in the kitchen, avoided sleep, and stared out the window. She remained there, trying not to wake the others, the rest of the day, nursing her physical wounds with more Skele-Gro, but afraid to sleep.

She watched Fleur and Luna later that morning working in the magically heated garden. Fleur had lanterns throughout it so she could have fresh herbs through a longer season. They were inspecting certain plants, tearing off roots of some and leaves off others. She wondered vaguely what they were doing but didn't really care. It was nice to watch. It seemed like normal life. What was normal life she wondered vaguely? Luna had had more sleep at Malfoy Manor and was up for the day. She looked very pale and in desperate need of the sunlight. Ron was sleeping in the kitchen, but several times she could have sworn he was watching her. _I don't know how to react to him._ She had held on to him so tight the night before, but she shouldn't have and she knew it. He had hurt her. She had become way too vulnerable to him. It was easier to keep him at a distance; it was safer.

When Harry woke up around 2pm, he slowly made his way to the kitchen for something to eat and noticed Hermione out on the porch steps again. Ron looked like he was finally sleeping, but he opened his eyes as Harry moved about, and looked out the window immediately at Hermione sitting alone.

"How is she? Has she slept?" Harry asked, fully expecting Ron to know.

"No. She can't relax."

"Neither can you I guess."

"Wants to be alone," Ron replied.

"I'll try and talk to her," said Harry.

"Uh, Harry? I think, whether she likes it or not, we should all take a bedroom together tonight. If she keeps having nightmares, it'll be quieter for the rest of the house, and we know exactly what's happened in case she says anything. Someone needs to wake her up before she gets so far into a nightmare that she can't calm down again, like this morning."

Harry nodded in agreement, understanding full well he meant that that someone was going to be Ron.

As he tried to figure out what he would say to her, Harry began rummaging through the cupboards and found her favourite herbal tea. He was about to bring Hermione the freshly steeped cup when Fleur and Luna came in with hands full of herbs. They were whispering and taking out vials of unidentifiable juices and other herbs from a storage cupboard. A cauldron sat simmering in the corner of the kitchen, a potions book nearby. Harry recognized the bottle of sedative potion base sitting a couple feet from the cauldron. It was a generic potion you could buy at any apothecary. Harry remembered it from Potions class and a small creeping hatred filled him for a brief moment until Fleur interrupted his thoughts.

"Ah, 'arry, you are awake. I 'ope you sleeped well," Fleur said.

Harry nodded and when he was about to ask about the potion they were making, Luna interrupted.

"Harry, we're making something that might be needed later. If it turns out well, I'll explain it to you." She nodded in Hermione's direction.

Luna felt so good being able to do something after months of captivity. After Hermione's nightmare she mentioned a potion she knew of to Fleur who immediately got out one of her books from Beauxbatons. It sounded familiar to her. They found it and perused the ingredients. Fleur's stores and magically heated herb garden had most of the ingredients, despite the earliness of the season. The herb needed at hour was more difficult to get. They sent Bill out to find it. Just then, Bill walked in the back door with five times the required amount. He had gone to his Auntie Muriel's, seen his mother there, and she went overboard trying to help find ingredients. With their cover story blown, she was frantic that one of the trio was hurt. She assaulted him with questions, but he refused to answer. He also acquired more Ditanny.

Harry smiled and nodded, attempting to look grateful and not sceptical. With Luna anything was possible. He grabbed the hot cup and headed for the back porch. When he opened the door, Hermione practically jumped out of her skin.

"It's just me." Harry offered her the cup and she accepted gratefully, wrapping her hands around the warm mug in the cool March air. Harry sat down next to her and noticed the purple shadows under her eyes and how pale she was in addition to the bruising. It was a stupid question forming on his lips, he knew, but he couldn't figure out what else to say. "How are you feeling?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and winced a little. Her mouth formed a flat line as she tried to keep emotions in check. She began her report.

"The Skele-Gro isn't full strength like in the hospital. We don't have enough Ditanny left to waste on these wounds. So, assuming we're going to be here for a little while, I can heal naturally. Fleur doesn't have any Ditanny left, so it's a longer process to heal, but I'll get there." She tried to sound encouraging to Harry.

"You should use the Ditanny if you need to."

"No. One more accident like when Ron was Splinched and we would regret that decision. Plus," she lowered her voice, "if we are going to break into Gringott's, we might need it. Considering the amount of protective charms in there, and all three of us going, well, wasting it on these wounds doesn't make sense. If we could stay at least a week, I'm sure I'll be fine. The Skele-Gro is working, just slower. But not all the wounds are skeletal."

Harry winced sympathetically. "We'll stay. Probably a few weeks at least since we need to plan out Gringott's. Seriously though, Bill just got back with more Ditanny. But you need to get some sleep. You can't go on like this and you know it."

Her eyes began to get glassy. She looked away from him and his lecture, the shoe on the other foot for a change.

"I've had nightmares too; lots of them. Just ask Ron. You can't be sure that you're going to experience one the next time you close your eyes. You've got to trust that you will just sleep. Your body needs this as much as your mind." He studied her. She was about to say something and then stopped.

"You're afraid," he continued. She still wouldn't look at him. "Hermione, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I would be too. I am for that matter. Ron or I could stay with you. Wake you as soon as we see you showing signs of a nightmare." She looked thoughtful, but also far away somewhere in her mind. However, she still wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Speaking of Ron, he hasn't slept, not deeply anyway. He's too worried about you. You know, he'd do anything for you." Harry took a breath, trying to figure out how to say more without giving away what happened before Ron destroyed the locket.

"I know he hurt you deeply when he left. I am not blind, Hermione. But, you said it yourself that night, he was influenced by the Horcrux. He isn't now, and he's been back for three months and he's still trying. He came back Hermione. Deluminator or not, it was not easy for him."

"Hermione, he just about went mental when you were being tortured. He couldn't get to you quick enough. I really think you should give him a chance. I hope you will." Harry patted her arm and changed the subject. "Have you eaten? I'm famished. A sandwich would be good. Interested?"

Hermione smiled and nodded her head and got up to follow Harry back inside. She ate because Harry wanted her to.

That night, after chatting with Luna, Fleur decided to move Hermione into the master bedroom. "Zere is a bat in zat room. She might need it during ze night. Let's move 'er now so zere will be less disruption later. Dat way ze main batroom can be of use to everyone wizout disturbing whoever is sleeping in ze master and if she 'as more dreams, she'll be in a bedroom. I will stay wit 'er trough ze night," she offered, knowing that the potion she and Luna had made earlier might be needed.

Ron looked up and the need to say something was fighting its way to his throat. He was about to object when suddenly, Harry interrupted.

"Thank you Fleur, but we're putting you out so much. You'll need sleep and there's no way either of us could relax and get some sleep unless we knew one of us was with Hermione." As he spoke, Harry gestured toward Ron who had already stood up. Understanding the cue, and making it sound completely business as usual, Harry turned to Ron, "You should take the first shift."

Nodding as if this was nothing unusual, as if it was simply night duty at the tent's entrance, Ron walked over to Hermione to help her limp upstairs to the master. On his way to her he said quietly to Harry, "The only shift, mate."

"I know, but if you need me, yell," Harry whispered.

Hermione opened her mouth to object not only to being a topic of conversation as if she wasn't in the room, but also at the arrangements. Ron gave her one of her own reprimanding and reproachful looks that she so frequently gave him and whispered sternly to her.

"We are guests in their home. She gets to decide where to put people. It's not polite to argue when she's being as accommodating to us as she is."

Hermione stared at Ron a moment. _He_ was lecturing _her_ on manners. She couldn't believe it. She closed her mouth without a word, although Ron could tell she was fighting the impulse. She stood up and went compliantly with Ron to the master bedroom; a situation she found very odd, especially as she felt all eyes were boring into her back as she climbed the stairs. She began to turn slightly pink in the face.

"Is there a chair in there?" Ron asked over his shoulder.

Fleur seemed a little taken aback. "Oui. I'll be zere in a moment," she called up from the bottom of the stairs. Ron nodded and closed the door.

Harry turned to her. "Fleur, thank you. You've been great, really great. There are two main reasons why it has to be us with Hermione. One, she might say something in her sleep. It could compromise us and put you at further risk than we already have. And two; I think they _need_ to be together. We work great as a team, but…you know we had a fight; a big one. We all needed to blow off some steam at that point. It had been building. Things were said that have hurt the trust we had in each other to watch our backs. He has to regain her trust. We've patched things up, Ron and I. But Hermione wasn't there when he proved he was back for good. He saved my life. They seem to have called a truce, but…I don't pretend to understand women, girls, whatever." He shook his head, confused. Bill nodded in sympathy. "But, she's making him jump through hoops and I think he'll jump as many as she throws at him until he earns her trust back completely. It was not entirely his fault, you know."

He debated a moment with himself if he should expand and then figured everyone knew they are out there trying to fight Voldemort, so it really wasn't of consequence if he continued slightly. Besides, it was here that Ron stayed when he left.

"You-Know-Who tried to come between us and break us up. It worked as you know, but only temporarily, I hope. Maybe he's becoming afraid of us. In any case, nasty things were said."

Bill and Fleur stared at the boy, man, in front of them. Wasn't he just a kid? It was hard to think of him as an adult though he had come of age. Harry was a man now. He was in charge, and he knew how to take care of the people he cared about. Whether he knew how far he had come, Bill could not say. He was choked up, "OK, Harry," he said simply. Fleur nodded in understanding.

Fleur gave Hermione more medicine and Ron moved a chair toward the bed and grabbed the throw from the bottom of Fleur and Bill's bed. He gave her forearm a little tap for support and a small flat lipped, but uncomfortable smile. "It'll be OK," he reassured her.

"Ron," she began. "You really don't have to do this. I am sure I can…"

He looked at her with a small scowl. "Hey, I'm keeping my word. _Remember_? If you need a shoulder, you can use mine any time." He shrugged slightly, "I think you'll need one tonight." He looked at her intently, and then suddenly he switched his tone to humorous. "Arms will probably be free too, see? No books!" he said trying to lighten the mood.

He moved the chair into position to Hermione's right, and spread the blanket over himself. Putting his feet up on the lower part of the bed, he settled for the night beside her as if this was nothing unusual. The thought came to him that she would probably want her mom with her right now, especially after his reference to his promise and the circumstances from which it had come about. He became even more determined to stay and help her.

She smiled and looked at him awkwardly but gratefully, remembering exactly when he had told her she could cry on him or have a bookless hug whenever. It was just before they went to get Harry from the Dursley's. She had told Ron her plan to modify her parents' memory so they wouldn't know who she was, have them want to move to Australia, and above all, be safe from Lord Voldemort.


	3. Flashback

_**Chapter 3: Flashback**_

Hermione looked determined suddenly. She was sitting on a fence with Ron at the Burrow discussing the meeting with the Order of the Phoenix. They would be going to get Harry in just over a week. It was now or never, she thought. She nodded her head and then jumped from the fence towards the orchard. Ron followed suit.

"I'll do it tomorrow morning. Get it over with. Everything needs to be settled by the time we go and get Harry out of there. It's just…it's not going to be easy to say goodbye. Do you realize what I'm going to have to do?" she asked Ron. "My bedroom—I'm going to have to take out everything personal there is. Pack up ALL my things. Pretend to them that I want a new, neutral room I guess and change the décor to a guest room otherwise when I wipe their memories of me, they'll go into my room and wonder why it was so…me! I will just vanish from them."

She thought out loud further. "I've already gotten as much money as I could, so the next step is packing. I'll start packing things up during the night, and do the spell in the morning. I wish I knew exactly what charm the Ministry uses to modify Muggle memories completely. Obviously, we know the _Obliviate_ spell to wipe out certain memories, but to implant them; that's another story. Your dad wouldn't hear of looking it up at work for me. I got the feeling there might be some kind of trace on it or something. Maybe he just finds it repulsive to do to someone. Anyway, I found one selective thought spell in a book. The words are simple enough, but the thought pattern is complex. I've been practising it. I think I've got it down right now, finally."

Ron looked at her apprehensively as they reached the orchard. "Who have you been practising on? Or do I want to know?" Suddenly, he realized that he had eaten spinach at supper. He hated spinach. He looked at her suspiciously and then decided it wasn't worth an argument right then. She was nervous and on the verge of tears. He pulled a couple of apples from a tree and offered her one.

"I'll help you pack tonight. You'll need to get some sleep so you don't goof up from exhaustion," he said and took a bite his apple. She raised an eyebrow. Quickly, he came up with another excuse. "It'll go a lot quicker with two of us cleaning out your room. What about the rest of your house? Like family pictures, albums? Do you have a bicycle or anything like that that has to go too?

"Oh, Ron! Thanks! I hadn't thought of those. Of course I'm going to need to be more thorough. I will need help." Taking a bite of her apple, she contemplated more and more what she had to do to keep her family safe. They continued to walk through the orchard away from Mrs. Weasley whom they could feel was watching them with concern from the kitchen window. They made mental checklists of everything they had to do at her parents' home.

Ron Apparated at midnight outside the _Protego Totalum_ boundary Hermione had put around her house. He was starting to get the hang of Apparition, though he still had trouble when he couldn't focus. He threw a stone up to her window; the only one with a light on. She waved to him and sneaked downstairs to let him in, smiling gratefully for the company and help. She cast a Muffling spell as they entered her room and closed the door.

He looked around. He had never been in her room before, though she had been in his plenty of times. She had put up sheers that draped over the top of her window life a scarf in Gryffindor colours. He noticed that picture frames matched the scarlet sheer. Some pictures were obviously Muggle, but others were magical as their subjects moved. He spied a picture of him, Harry, and Hermione. They were all soaking wet. Colin Creevey had given it to Hermione after the second task in the Triwizard Tournament. They were all smiling and happy and laughing together as Harry has been awarded second place. Her night table was draped in gold with another red picture frame on it, this one of Harry hoisting the Quidditch Cup, held aloft by fellow Gryffindors, Ron and Hermione clapping enthusiastically. That was third year, he remembered. Her old Gryffindor scarf was wrapped neatly around the post of her head board.

"I managed to convince Mom that I just wanted a plain room, moved Dad's recliner in here, under protest mind you, and a computer too. It's starting to look like a guest room/home office I think," she said as she waved her wand and the colours of the sheers turned to blue and beige. "Gosh, that's dull," she commented.

He moved to the picture on the wall and smiled as he took it down. "Good times. Do you want to take any of these with us? Maybe, out of their frames though. You know, put them inside a book. I can't imagine you going anywhere without a book."

She smiled at him as she walked towards him and sighed looking at the picture. "Ronald, you're going to get me all emotional. You know how you hate that!" she said with a small laugh. Then she shook her head sadly, thinking of all the books she planned on taking. "No, let's keep those safe. We'll have good times again. I'm sure we will. We have to. That's all there is to it."

Together they packed up everything into a couple of boxes that Arthur had magically extended for her. She made note to have him teach her that spell before they left. They sneaked through the house and altered pictures, removed her awards from the fireplace mantel and display cabinets, and went to the garage to take her bicycle, skis, and a few other things.

"OK, I think that's everything. Well, actually, here, I saved this for last so I could find it easily at the Burrow." She moved to the closet of her room and pulled out a dress and shoes to complete the box. "Mom and I went shopping today for a dress and shoes for the wedding. I guess that's the last thing we'll do together for a long time."

She looked around, close to tears. In the back of her mind was the thought that it could very well be the last thing she _ever_ did with her mother. "There's no trace of Hermione Granger here at all," she said sadly, becoming choked up.

"Hermione Granger has just moved. That's all. You've got to think of it that way. Keep remembering you're probably saving their lives." He patted her shoulder in an awkward but supportive fashion.

She nodded, not fully convinced in her heart, but knowing it to be true.

"OK, I'll take this stuff with me back to the Burrow. Do you want me to come back?" he asked.

"Hmmm? No. I don't think so. It'll be easier alone."

Ron studied her a moment and decided to return in a few hours just in case.

"Ron? Could you hang up that dress when you get home?" she said weakly.

He looked at her. She was going to cry, he knew it. "Yeah, sure thing. Hermione? Do you want me to stay? Are you OK?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine. You get going. And, thanks Ron, for everything." She motioned to the dull surroundings of her room.

"No problem. I'll see you tomorrow." He left her room and exited the house, moving beyond the protective boundary of her house so he could Disapparate.

Hermione went to bed with the clothes she planned to wear the next morning laying across the recliner. She made breakfast with her mom and chatted happily like they always did whenever she was home.

Her father walked into the kitchen. "Hermione, are you going to do some more decorating? The walls are so bare, it feels weird. Where has my little girl gone?"

"Well, everyone has to grow up sometime and put childish things away don't they?" she replied nervously.

They ate together discussing the news, her course choices for Hogwarts that she never intended to follow through with, and Harry and Ron in a limited manner. She brought up subject after subject trying to delay the inevitable. Her father was about to take his tea and newspaper into the living room. He was bound to notice the changes once he went in there. She had no choice. Now was the time.

"Mom, Dad?"

He stopped and turned around, both said in unison: "Yes, dear."

"I love you very much. I just wanted to say what really great parents you are and just…well, I should say it more often. Thanks for being so wonderful and supportive and everything. You're very special."

They were obviously taken aback. "Sweetheart, we love you too—with all our hearts." They hugged and Hermione began to cry. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes. So many kids have lost their parents, that's all. You know, Neville's are in hospital, and Luna and her mom, and Harry of course. It got me thinking."

"There's no reason to fear that with us. We're here for you. We always will be." Her mom hugged her again.

Hermione walked to the doorway to the living room and turned around. She had not noticed Ron outside under the kitchen window now moving behind a lawn chair to observe. "I love you. Be happy. Be safe." She pulled out her wand to see the strange, fearful and horrified look cross their faces and waved it at them. "_Alieno Hermione Granger!_" "Domus_ Australia!_" She flourished her wand solely at her father now. "_Nomen Wendell Wilkins." _Then she quickly turned to her mother_, "Nomen Monica Wilkins!_"

Hermione ducked out of sight before their eyes could focus on the stranger in their home. She ran out the front door as quickly as possible without drawing attention to herself, holding back the tears from running down her face. Suddenly, she realized she had not planned for this part. Where to go? She looked to her left and saw the large oak tree next-door. She quickly hid herself behind it. She leaned back against it and felt like she was about to hyperventilate. I'm alone. I have no family now, she thought.

Out of the corner of her eye she spied movement. Someone was running towards her. Oh no, she thought. Death Eaters were here and she had not acted quickly enough. She turned with her wand upheld defensively, ready to strike only to find Ron in front of her. He quickly grabbed her wand hand to stop her from cursing him. "It's me!"

She was in such an excited state; she could have easily hurt him. She stared at him, her mouth frozen open. Her body began to wrack as her stomach contracted with the effort she was making to hold in the tears; her mouth began arching downwards and trembled with the attempt to control her emotions. He had come for her. She began to relax but that opened the dam in her eyes. Wordlessly, Ron watched the emotions play out across her face. Tentatively, he opened his arms and she fell gratefully into them as they encircled her she broke down. He just held her as she cried it out. No words were necessary.

A familiar squeak made its way to her ears. Hermione froze. Someone was exiting the side door. She straightened up and forced herself to stop crying suddenly when she saw her father take the garbage out. She wiped her face and they began casually walking down the street. It was time to test her work. She had to pull it together.

"Good morning. Great day isn't it?" her father said with a smile he would give to anyone, and he turned to go back to the house.

"Lovely," Ron replied when Hermione faltered. He grabbed her hand and they started walking away. "They'll be safe. Remember that." Ron tried to reassure her.

"I am all alone," she whispered in shock and barely audible as she looked back.

"No, you're not. You have me …and Harry, my family, and everyone in the Order. You're _not_ alone." He gave her hand a squeeze to emphasize the point.

"But if I die tomorrow, it won't matter." Briefly she thought, she had just made herself expendable and then pushed it from her mind.

"For such a smart girl, you can be really mental." He rolled his eyes, while she looked affronted. "Of course it would matter, to everyone. We're going to get through all this and then you can remove the charms. We can't fail. But really, could either of us not help Harry, knowing what he's up against? Deep down, we both know we don't have a choice; both as friends and the fact that everyone around Harry is vulnerable, Muggle," he nodded in her parents' house direction, "Or not. How could we live with a decision not to help?"

She nodded in agreement but was still crying silently.

"Hey, my shoulder's free," he offered awkwardly but sincerely.

It was all she needed to really let out a full cry and get it over with. She stepped forward into a welcoming and comforting embrace. "I never thought I would raise my wand against my own parents. It felt so…criminal," she sobbed into his neck.

"Not to injure though. You did it to protect them" he reminded her as he patted her back.

"Ron, that was so hard. I…I've been losing them ever since going to Hogwarts. They don't understand my life. We've been growing apart since entering this world. And now look what I've done. I feel like I've just put the last nail in the coffin."

Ron winced and then felt he had to give her a little reprimand and straighten her out. "Well, if that's how you're going to describe it and think that way, then it could turn out like that, yes. Positive thinking, Hermione! Don't dish it out and not take it yourself. You always told me to have confidence in myself when we would go into exams, so take a little of your own medicine. And what you described isn't exactly exclusive to Muggle-borns going to Hogwarts, you know. Anyone going away to school has less dependence on their parents. I don't see mine every night for supper during the school year either. That part is natural, and you know it."

The conviction and strength in his voice helped her to recover. She pulled back and looked at Ron, her expression softening. "You came."

"You're just noticing, are you?" He fought the impulse to say "Very well spotted." She probably wasn't in the mood for sarcasm he assessed. Besides, she had not moved out of his embrace and he wanted to keep it that way as long as possible.

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

He kissed the top of her head, mildly frustrated at these awkward baby steps to change their relationship. "Anytime. I mean that. If my shoulder's not doing anything, you're welcome to it. That goes for a hug too if my arms are free. But, if they're full of books, you'll just have to wait." He smiled awkwardly, hoping a joke would help. He was rewarded with a small laugh and smile and another hug.

They continued to walk down the street until her house was completely out of sight. Somehow, he had better make sure the rest of her enchantments worked right. He would come back or ask his brothers, Fred and George, to check on her parents within a day to make sure Hermione's parents left or were planning on leaving for Australia. For her to come back and go through this again would not be good for her.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded her head and sniffled. "I'm glad I didn't have to do this alone. You're a good friend, Ron." She gave his hand a little squeeze, not noticing the disappointed look on his face and then they Disapparated back to the Burrow.


	4. Tortured Again

_**Chapter 4: Tortured Again**_

_**Sorry, I'm new to publishing and am figuring out how to get names for the chapters. Enjoy**_

Despite the uncomfortable situation, Hermione had fallen asleep within minutes, but her sleep was very restless. When she began to fidget, Ron grabbed hold of her hand and watched her worriedly in the glow of the moonlight. The sound of the ocean waves outside the cottage was no longer comforting like they had been that morning. Tonight, they seemed to pound against the rocks in an abusive manner; matching the throbbing of his pulse in his temple. He reached over grabbed his wand with his free hand and flicked it at the small lamp beside the bed. He felt powerless to help her so all he could figure out to do was to hold her hand and talk to her, hoping the sound of his voice would calm her and take her out of her nightmares as he began calling softly to bring her out of it.

Suddenly, she began twitching so fiercely and gripped his hand so tightly that he had to get up and shake her awake. As he rose, she began screaming. Unfolding behind those closed eyes she was reliving _again_ the torture she endured at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her a little. "Hermione! Hermione, wake up! It's Ron. I'm here. It's over. She can't hurt you. I'm here. Wake up!"

Her body jerked to protect her abdomen as she screamed again. Ron captured her face in his hands this time. "Hermione! You're safe! I won't let anything happen to you. You're safe! You're at Shell Cottage. It's over. It's over. I'm here, you're here, Harry's here. It's over."

As he said the last words, she opened her eyes to him, staring at him in fear as she began to shake and sob. He pulled her close and held her tight, willing strength into her. It was a strange exchange of positions. Hermione had always been the strong one, practical, quick on her feet in almost any situation this past year. Helpless, was not something Ron associated with her. The panicked look in her eyes tore at him. It was the same as earlier that morning when she thought Greyback was carrying her and this was only a dream. The reality had been far worse and he knew it.

After a few minutes she stopped shaking and sniffled and looked up at him, exhaustion in her eyes and a gradually lessening fear, but pleading there as well. _Make it stop!_ He could read her thoughts. It's all he wanted for her too.

"How many more times do I have to live through that?" she wondered.

There was a knock at the door. Ron was annoyed. _Leave us alone_, he wanted to yell, but somewhere inside him he also wanted help for her.

"Yes?"

The door opened and Luna and Harry were there. No one had gone to bed yet. They were all still awake, talking when the screams began. Then again, who would have remained sleeping during that? Ron was still holding a shaking Hermione, and rocking her somewhat with a scared and concerned look on his face.

They had brought a cup of potion with them. Luna had begun it earlier in the day after Hermione's nightmare that morning. Luna stepped forward, gesturing to the cup in her hand.

"This is a potion I learned how to make when something happened in my family; when my mum died."

Hermione let go of Ron. Meeting his concerned, appraising eyes, she nodded an "I'm OK" sort of acknowledgement to him and he released her. He gave her a quick, friendly pat on the back in front of Harry and Luna.

Luna continued. "I had nightmares too, that would not go away until I took this." She exchanged looks with Harry. "It is called Mare-Go, but it will bring all nightmares forward. You will dream them again; from most traumatic in your life to the least. It will be a horrible night for you. But the silver lining is that it will remove long lasting effect from the incidents. It will not take away the memory, or hate, or anything like that, but it will ease any sense of fear, trepidation, any hesitation in your actions as a result of trauma. It will let you move forward. But it will be the night from hell and then it will be over. You will wake up rested and a new sense of peace will replace the negative.

"I think you would live a terrible night anyway, whether you take this or not, but this will bring an end to the absolute horrors. You won't ever dream those dreams again. You will sleep peacefully."

"It is here if you want to take it. If you do, you must drink it all at once. You will need two cups of water after any major nightmare to replace the fluids you will lose as you sweat the terrors out of your system. Reduce to one cup of water when the nightmares become easier. You will know when to reduce according to the amount of perspiration. One word of caution though, you will probably talk as you relive everything." She placed the cup on the dresser and turned to go. As she left the room, she reminded Ron, "Fleur says she will need more Skele-Gro and pain reliever at 4am, Ron." She didn't even look at Harry as she said it. Ron guessed she figured out they wouldn't be taking shifts.

Harry didn't know what to say, seeing her still slightly swollen and bruised face and the look of fear in her eyes. She was still trembling from the nightmare. He thought briefly of the conversation outside with her and Ron following the interviews with Griphook and Ollivander. She would have gone with him and Ron had he decided to go after the Elder Wand. He knew it, and she was in no psychological shape to do so. Harry became more confident in his choice to stay and let Voldemort get the wand first. It proved to him that the people he loved were more important than the power he could have wielded with the wand. The choice set him apart from Voldemort that much more thankfully. _Damn! What am I doing thinking of myself when this is happening?_

He walked over to Hermione and quickly kissed her on the top of her head. Their eyes met, and he reached for her hand and gave it a little squeeze of encouragement, and turned to leave the room. Guilt coursed through his veins that she was going through this. It was his carelessness, his fault for having said Voldemort's tabooed name which brought about their capture and subsequently Hermione's torture. He was responsible for this as much as Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort himself, he thought. As he closed the door, his stomach tightened. He took a deep breath and went outside and sat on the steps alone, his head in his hands. The cold air assaulted him and somehow he felt he deserved it as he listened to one of his best friends going through hell. His conscience wrestled with the fact that the price of the clue to the next Horcrux, likely in the vault at Gringott's, may be Hermione's health. He looked at his watch. It was only 10:30pm. It was going to be a long night.


	5. To Trust or Not to Trust

_**Chapter 5: To Trust or Not to Trust**_

**A/N: Thanks to all who have reviewed and especially the honour of adding me to their author's list. I actually have an insert where Dobby arrives with Luna and Mr. O at Shell Cottage. But since it wasn't directly R/H, I removed it. I could publish it separately and if readers want it I'll merge it. HeRonFan**

Ron looked at Hermione. "You don't have to take that if you don't want to. But, we'll get through this either way. I won't leave you, if that helps at all," he added.

She looked at the cup and then at Ron. He had said "we". "You won't leave me?" The night of the horrible fight swam in her head. She had run after him, swallowed every ounce of pride she had in begging him to stay and he had accused her of choosing Harry over him. That night had hurt her so much. She had lost her friend, her confident, and she had hoped something much more. Yet, here Ron was, back again and determined to help her and stay.

He shook his head. Hermione took a deep breath. "It's going to be awful if that last dream is any indication. But," she took a deep breath before continuing awkwardly. "I don't think I can do this alone. I… don't want Harry here. He might lose confidence in me. Actually, I think he already has. I'm so scared though. I might frighten you away." She looked at him again, a pleading in her eyes that she did not have the strength to hide. "You won't leave me?" she repeated, her eyes swimming with unshed tears.

He walked over to her and boldly gripped each of her upper arms and looked directly into her eyes, hoping to give her the confidence and strength that he was pretending to feel for her. He knew what she was thinking about. "I am not leaving you."

Did she understand how much he meant it, he wondered. He had almost lost her the night before. The compression in his chest when he thought about it, the pain he felt physically when he listened to her screams during the torture made him feel like he was going to die with her. The old platitude of someone dying of a broken heart no longer seemed like some easily repeated words to explain something. He had felt it. It put everything in perspective for him. He knew that he cared about her, but he hadn't expected it to be this much. He had just turned 18, he thought. How could he know this was it for him already?

He put his arms around her to give her the most supportive hug he could. How often had he dreamed of having her in his arms, but it wasn't under these circumstances. _Will I ever get to hold you, just hold you and you hold back?_ He pulled back and looked at her, "You can do this," he encouraged. She needed that confidence and encouragement more than anything else right now. Tonight was not the night to tell Hermione how mental he was about her. Tonight, he would be everything he wasn't five months earlier.

Looking up at him, she saw strength in a set jaw line and determination coming through his eyes. In that moment there was no one else that she wanted to lean on more. In that moment she decided to trust him. Wiping the tears that had begun to fall, she took the cup and swallowed the contents. A grimace crossed her face. "Tastes…like grass. Not as bad as Polyjuice Potion at least. Feel like a cow."

OK, the worst is yet to come, Ron thought as he stared at the empty cup on the dresser. He wasn't sure if he could handle the night ahead, but it didn't matter. He would, no matter what was thrown at them. He had lived with the terror of her torture, unable to do anything for her from the cellar below where he and the others had been kept at Malfoy Manor. He had listened to her screams as she was repeatedly kicked and endured the Cruciatus Curse over and over again. He would have to relive it with her, but at least he would be able to touch her, and see that it wasn't really happening again, except in her own tortured mind. Watching. Then he noticed she was studying him.

"You look like hell, Ron. Have you had any sleep since we got here?"

His eyebrows went up. That was an understatement considering how his nerves were threatening to take over. He hadn't even slept 90 minutes from the time they all settled down earlier that morning to when Hermione started screaming. He had worried about her enough that he couldn't relax and sleep during the day either. A nice friendly game of Wizard Chess seemed relaxing right now though, even if he lost.

"I'll catch up on beauty sleep tomorrow. You know, the swelling in your face has gone down some, and the bruise on your left eye is half gone. That Skele-Gro works fast even if it isn't the full strength stuff. Your nose looks better too considering it's only cartilage. You're looking like your beautiful self again if that makes you feel any better." _Merlin! Did I just call her beautiful out loud? Bloody Hell!_

"Uh, thank you. It does." she said sincerely as her cheeks flushed. She must have looked a fright. Viktor had been the first boy to tell her she was beautiful, but it meant nothing to her compared to Ron saying it. "I think I'm glad I didn't look in a mirror right away. Um, I have a feeling, if I'm going to sweat that much, you won't think so for too long." She looked a little embarrassed. _He called me beautiful! Ron Weasley actually said I was beautiful! Stop it, calm your nerves, make an excuse to get your head under control._

"We will probably need more sheets I guess. And I'll probably need more night clothes, maybe some face cloths and some cool water. My temperature is going to go up a lot I guess." _Maybe I should have asked for Luna to stay with her. How many times did I just say I guess?_

"A little bit of work ahead of us. Yup, you'll "look like hell" too for a bit, I guess." He repeated her words, trying to lighten the mood. He was unsuccessful. Still, he was amazed she could think about such practical matters when she was about to go through hell.

She went into the bathroom and he could hear her opening a cupboard and getting supplies. He also heard an "ow" and felt bad that he wasn't doing it. Then again, she wouldn't be Hermione if she didn't have some sort of control. He was mildly surprised she hadn't asked to see the potion recipe so she could read it herself.

Coming back in the bedroom, Hermione began to yawn. She quickly started talking again so she wouldn't go to sleep yet. "Are you hungry? What am I saying? You're always hungry. You should go get some food for the night." She crawled on to the bed. "I guess there's a sedative in the potion. There would have to be. Who would want to sleep knowing what's ahead?" She began to yawn uncontrollably now as she pulled up the covers. He moved to the chair beside the bed, grabbing the discarded blanket from off the floor.

"Are you scared?" He nodded, barely able to look at her directly. Tears welled in her eyes that she was causing this. She reached for his knee to pat somewhat awkwardly. "Me too. Thank you for staying with me."

"I couldn't be anywhere else Hermione." He meant it. Their eyes met and held each other's gaze a moment. She smiled, lay back, and fell asleep feeling safe that Ron was there.

Hermione looked peaceful for all of a minute. Then she became agitated. Her head rolled around on the pillow, her brow already wet as she became paler. Her breathing became shallow and quick.

He expected screams. He expected a replay of what he saw earlier—her reliving the torture by Bellatrix Lestrange. Luna had said the worst nightmares came first and then easier ones later. There was no screaming, but a familiar pleading that had haunted his own dreams during the weeks he was away before Christmas. It was directed at _him_.

**A/N: Hope you like it so far. My personal favourite chapter is next. It was the chapter that popped into my head first. Hope you'll stay tuned. **


	6. Hermione's Worst Nightmare Ch 6

_**Chapter 6: Hermione's Worst Nightmare **_

**A/N: Some of you have written about the degree of cuts, etc. during the torture; mostly positive, thank you. I figured if Bellatrix would cut Griphook with her wand, she would do at least that to Hermione considering her blood status. It was to add a little intensity to Ron's fear. **

**This chapter is the core for the whole story, hence its title. The potion idea came later as I simply wanted more, and figured that could be a route to go where she would be helpless to stop all the revelations . (They will continue, BTW.) Because of that, it has a special place in my heart as this is what started my writing fanfic. Hope you enjoy it.**

Ron froze. _He_ was her worst nightmare. He had caused her more pain than Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Take off the locket, Ron. Please take it off. You wouldn't be talking like this if you hadn't been wearing it all day." (_DH_, p. 252) she pleaded.

Ron was horrified his actions had done this to her. Actions he could not help. Voldemort was partly to blame. Why hadn't he listened to her? Because the properties of the locket prevented him from seeing straight or understanding what was right in front of him, he thought. Anger at himself boiled up inside. He knew the locket affected him strangely. Why hadn't he said something to them? Why hadn't he told them to watch him and tell him to take it from him when he began to think and act out of character? Why hadn't he listened to her? She was annoyingly right most of the time.

"What? Yes, I'm staying…we said we would help (_DH_, p. 254)…Ron, no—please—come back…don't leave us… Don't leave me." She sobbed. "Don't leave meee! Ron! Noooooo! Come back! Pleeease come back! Choose him? _Choose him?_ How could you? How?"

She began to cry so hard, it brought him out of his own shock. He couldn't take it anymore. He sat her up and shook her awake. She looked up at him in shock. Despite his grip on her, she raised her hand to touch his chest as if he was an illusion. On contact, she began to shake almost to the point of convulsion. She panted, "Please—don't leave, Ron. I need you. Please…" Her arms wrapped around him and held him so tight.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." He wasn't sure if she was awake or not. She sobbed uncontrollably as he matched her tight grip and reassured her over and over again that he wouldn't leave.

He could hear footsteps run to the door and cursed at them, muttering under his breath, "Go away!" This was his fault. He had to be the one to help her and no one else. It was his fault. That night was the worst night of his life too. Nothing else had affected him so much and now he knew it was the worst night for her as well and he had caused it.

While they were apart, their fight haunted him over and over again. He went to sleep every night thinking about it. He would wake up in a sweat, his heart racing. But the fight with Harry was secondary in importance. It was her tortured, rain-soaked face that swam in front of his eyes that he kept seeing, her voice calling him that he kept hearing. How could he have walked away from her like that? In his right mind, he wouldn't have. He knew it. He had to make things right between them. The footsteps receded, and he was grateful. No one else should hear this. It was between them.

Her sobbing began to subside and Hermione looked up at him and then realization of what just happened leapt into her eyes. The horror at what she had divulged. She was overcome with humiliation and pain.

_No, I didn't just beg out loud! What if he doesn't want to hear I care? Oh my God. He's just here because he's trying to be a good friend, trying to get me to forgive him. He doesn't care the way I do. After all, he left. He accused me of…he wouldn't have thought that if he really cared, would he? He doesn't want to hear this. Now I've lost him for good. No chance now. It's Ron; he'll run the 100m in 5 seconds trying to get away from me. Never have a chance to…Oh, my God…What have I done? _

Her eyes darted around the moving room. She couldn't look at him. Her face went even paler. Ron was saying her name, trying to get her to focus. All she could hear was his voice as if it was over some sort of loud speaker. It was far away. She was so hot. Her ears began to ring and it drowned out his voice. Blood drained from her head. The room began to spin faster as weakness spread over her entire body and she crumpled in his arms. He was really yelling now. "HERMIONE! HELP!"

_What? Leave me alone! _She wanted to answer, to scream at him but found she had difficulty finding her voice. What she wanted to do and how she could respond did not connect. But she could hear him calling her name over and over again.

Ron pulled her upright, but her head lopped to one side. His voice became clearer and suddenly, her body began to retch and she slipped slightly from his grasp. Her hair fell forward over her face as she heaved over the side of the bed and her stomach emptied. Ron's hands still gripped her arms, stopping her from falling off the bed to the floor. Somewhere in her now conscious state it registered with her that the door had opened and others were in the room. _Oh no, more humiliation._

"I think she fainted, then this," Ron said worriedly. He repositioned himself on the bed to support her weight at the awkward angle.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Mess, oh, I can clean it up. Sorry," she panted, her voice finally returning.

"Hermione, shut up and finish. Don't worry about the mess," Ron commanded.

He was still there. _Oh, no. This is not good for any guy to see. Who was he talking to?_ She retched again, this time there was a bowl of some sort under her face. Hands were holding it in front of her. _Oh, it's a vase. The hands are male_. A slightly beaten watch was on the left wrist. _Oh, it's_…She retched again.

"OK?" asked Ron.

She nodded half-heartedly.

"Come on."

Ron helped her up and to the bathroom to wash her face. Harry and Luna cleaned up the floor while Fleur changed the bed sheets as Hermione hadn't quite cleared the edge of the bed. Ron sat her on the toilet lid, still fully clothed and made her drink water. A little colour returned to her face. He looked around the bathroom and saw a hair band and pulled her wet hair off her face and made a messy attempt at tying it back. Then he sat on the edge of the tub, and held a wet face cloth to the back of her neck and wiped her forehead.

She was still shaking, her teeth chattering. She focussed on the cold tile floor that suddenly looked very inviting. She swayed, but Ron stood up and caught her before she slumped over again and pulled her upright. "Whoa! I've got you." He wet the facecloth again and wiped her face and ears until she looked like she knew where she was.

_I'm holding her, got my arms around her. She's puking and passing out, you git! Yeah, but I still got to hold her for a second even though…Never realized just how tiny she is. Stupid nutter, stay focused!_

Ron sat her back down on the toilet. "Hermione! Who am I?" he questioned.

The world came into focus again. "Ron. I'm OK. I'm OK, now. Thanks," she whispered hoarsely.

Ron looked for another face cloth and wet it and ordered Hermione to place it on her stomach. She looked at him. "When did you learn to take care of someone who was sick?" she asked as she followed his instructions.

"Fred and George," he replied quickly.

"What?"

He smiled. "Fred and George got into the fire whiskey one holiday. Fred was a little worse, actually a _lot_ worse than George. He couldn't fake feeling well when Mom and Dad got home. Lost it right in the kitchen when Mom started cooking and the room got warm. I laughed and, well, I was enjoying his misery to tell you the truth. They never needed magic to make my life hell when they wanted to. It was a nice little self-induced payback. Anyway, I saw Mom wet down a face cloth or two."

"Bet she was angry," Hermione mused.

"Yeah, you could say that," he smiled at the memory. "Dad gave them both crap, but you could tell that he was amused himself at the whole thing. I think the episode became one of the inspirations for Puking Pastilles. You should have heard them telling Mom they were doing research for their future life's work. It did not make Mom very supportive, not then anyway, not for quite a while actually." He placed a newly cooled cloth on the back of her neck.

Hermione smiled. "Thank you." It was nice to hear Ron talking about his family again. It was nice just to have a normal conversation with him again. Their relationship had been so strained since his return just after Christmas. "Do you miss them?"

"What?"

"Your family. Um, you haven't really spoken about them very much since…." She shrugged. "I miss them, Hogwarts, everybody actually. Seeing Luna and Dean brings it all back full force, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. It's not like it used to be though, is it? Everyone is scattered. Some at Hogwarts, some are in hiding like us, some in Azkaban. It would be nice to know everyone is alright though, you know," Ron said. She nodded in agreement. He motioned for the washcloth she was holding to her stomach and he rinsed it again and gave it back to her.

"Thanks. I'm sure your parents feel that way about you." She paused. "Mine have no idea—about anything to do with me. If I had died last night, it wouldn't have mattered…"

Anger burned inside of him instantly and he cut her off. "There you go again. Stop it, OK! It would matter, Hermione. Everyone here cares about you and is worried about you. You're not alone."

She had been thinking about everything while sitting alone most of the day. If something happened to her, the mission could go on. Her parents wouldn't mourn. If something happened to Ron, so many would be affected. If something happened to Harry, they were doomed. He had the connection to Voldemort's mind, whether she liked it or not. If it came down to it, she reasoned, she might have to be the one to sacrifice between the three of them. She thought of the torture the night before. If she had died, yes, the boys would miss her, but her demise would not affect so many. If they had to face something particularly dangerous before getting all the Horcruxes, it should be her, she thought.

She reached for his forearm, "I didn't mean it like that, Ron. I know you care, and I don't take that for granted. I just meant my fam…," she began, but was interrupted when Fleur and Harry appeared at the door, exchanging worried looks with Ron. "Fleur, I'm so sorry," Hermione said, looking up at Fleur with exhausted, bloodshot eyes.

"Do not worry about it. I expected dis. I 'elped Luna make ze potion today. It is why I put you in dis room, with a bathroom to run to whenever you actually can. Ze bed is changed, everyzing is cleaned up, except, uh, for your 'air."

Harry walked past Fleur and knelt down in front of her, putting his hand on her knee reassuringly. "That was the worst one. It will get easier." He was about to ask what the dream was about when Ron shook his head, a strange, forbidding look about him. Harry let it go.

Hermione took a few deep breaths and felt like her wits were about her again. She was embarrassed and just wanted to be alone.

"I think I need to brush my teeth and wash my hair before I go back for another round. Thanks everyone," she said politely, but dismissively.

Ron hesitated, and then they all began filing out as she moved to close the door. She was alone, relief spreading over her. She looked over her night shirt and pyjama pants. All clean. Small miracles, she thought. She heard muffled voices in the master bedroom as she squeezed toothpaste on to her brush. She could make out Luna saying, "I never fainted. Maybe I made it too strong."

"Were you sick?" Ron demanded to know.

"Yes."

"How often?"

"The first two nightmares for me. But that is different with everyone depending on severity and number of terrors, and the frequency a person experienced a nightmare."

Ron wiped his hand over his face, like an old man beset with worry. "Thanks Luna. We're not out of the woods yet then."

"Daddy took it too after Mum passed away. He was sick four times."

Ron looked at her and nodded his head and smiled condescendingly as he moved her to the doorway. _I didn't need to hear that._

Hermione heard the door to the master close and she let out a deep breath she had not realized she was holding. She was alone in the bathroom. She didn't have to face anyone. How much had they _all_ heard? The nightmare replayed for a moment in her head and so did the aftermath. _I guess the cat's out of the bag now, _she thought_. I can't hide it now. How can I go out there and face him?_ She imagined opening the door and seeing Ron waiting for her. What on earth would she say to him after that?

She began to cross her arms to remove her shirt for a shower when a stabbing pain hit her left shoulder, and she doubled over in pain with a small cry, her right hand instantly reaching up to hold her left shoulder. She had protected her head from the Cruciatus with her arm as much as possible. Her left shoulder had intercepted much of the curse and spared her some direct head injuries.

The door flung open within half a second. Ron was there, wand in hand.

_Just what did he think was happening that he needed a wand?_ His eyes travelled over her and he looked suspicious. _Oh, for Heaven's sake, now what? Aren't I humiliated enough?_

"You can't raise your arm, can you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Um….not without a little pain, no," she admitted. "But, I can't very well lie down and sleep smelling like this, can I? I've got to wash my hair." It sounded very lame she thought, but really, the stench was becoming overpowering.

Ron looked over the bathroom. The sink was large and rectangular at the end of the small room, and had taps that protruded out rather far. "Well, if you're going to do it, I'll help you."

"No, Ron. You've done enough for me already…I really think I can manage on my own and in any case…"

He cut her off, his hand slicing through the air. "Hermione, you need help. That's what I'm here for. So let me. Easier than cleaning up the other I think." His attempt at a joke did not make her laugh.

Hermione gasped, her embarrassment returning again as she turned red. He pretended not to notice. "All right then... Uhhh, sit down and lean back."

"What?"

"Sit down, please." She did as he asked and leaned back. He had grabbed a towel and approached her to put it over her shoulders. He reached into the bathtub enclosure and grabbed the shampoo.

He pointed his wand at her and gave it a flick as he said, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

She began to levitate to the level of the sink at the end of the room, her feet pointing out and towards the bathtub end of the room. She lay herself flat completely submitting to his spell. Her shoulder didn't hurt with the charm supporting all her weight. She heard the water running in the sink and looked back to see him testing the temperature.

He pointed his wand at her and she moved head first under the tap. Ron removed the elastic from her hair and it tumbled down into the sink. Suddenly, he thought this was no longer a good idea. He was really taking care of her, his hands were in contact with her, running through her hair as he gently rinsed it and then washed it. She closed her eyes, afraid to look at him during the process, and he was grateful in case he betrayed too much. _I'm helping, that's all. She needs help. My hands are running through her hair. I've always wanted to...helping, I'm helping. Stay focused you stupid git._

His stomach was doing somersaults, he was so nervous. He was glad she kept her eyes closed. As long as she didn't see how nervous he was, he could get through this, he thought. As he continued though, he realized he was becoming less nervous. He knew she cared about him, maybe as much as he did for her. Taking care of her seemed natural and what he wanted to do. He didn't have to be there; he wanted to be. She needed him. There was a comfort in knowing that someone like Hermione actually needed _him_.

Hermione sensed a change in how he was lathering her hair. He was gentle, deliberate, and very caring. He no longer betrayed nerves to her at all. He seemed at ease with the situation, in control and even confident. That ease washed over her as well. She opened her eyes enough to watch him through her eye lashes. A new comfort level was establishing between them, one she had never felt before. She felt he was maturing before her at that moment; putting someone else before himself and that someone was her. It wasn't Scabbers, or a Firebolt, or anyone else. He was gentle and sweet, and nurturing, the way a man could take care of something precious, like a child. Suddenly she could see him with a baby. The thought caused her to jerk her eyes open. _Whoa!_

"Too rough?"

"No, uh, not at all. Actually, it feels wonderful. You could have a new career here." She smiled, gazing up at him and he smiled back to her; a smile just for her, she thought. She closed her eyes again, content.

Ron gently rinsed her hair, wrapped the towel around her head and lowered her in a sitting position. He floated her whole body out of the bathroom and towards the bed, grabbing a brush as he followed behind her.

He sat on the bed next to her and gently removed the towel and began to brush her hair. Hermione was about to protest that she could brush her own hair with her right hand, but something stopped her as she looked at Ron's reflection in the mirror opposite them. She could not take her eyes away. He was completely intent on finishing the job for her and extremely careful not to pull hard so she wouldn't cringe in any way. She wondered how she could feel simultaneously that she didn't want this moment to end as well as wanting it to be over as quickly as possible. She never expected this to be an intimate experience, but it was.

Hermione couldn't believe this was the same Ron. Was this the same boy who could barely talk to a girl without stammering, or run the other way if he asked her out? What happened? He was making her feel incredibly special. She wanted more than anything to trust it. "Thank you." The words broke the silence that had surrounded them, but it seemed necessary.

"Do you want it dried?" he asked.

"No, it's nice and cool while it is wet. I think it should be pinned back so we don't have a repeat of last time though."

He looked around and saw a hair clip on the dresser. "I'm sure Fleur won't mind. Um, how do you want it done?" She instructed him and he followed her directions in silence. "Well, that's a first for me," he grinned. "I'm sure you could do better, but it's not bad really," he said sheepishly, examining his work. But, now that the job was over, he had no idea what to do next.

She smiled at him, unsure what to say except, "Thank you."

The quiet stretched between them and she felt the closeness turning awkward. What did he think of her? She was embarrassed that the pleading for him to come back was replayed, everything brought out fresh. Her stomach began to tighten, and heat rose up the back of her neck. Tears threatened her eyes. She looked away so he wouldn't see.

"I'm sorry." They both said it at the same time.

A/N: Next comes the big discussion as many of you have been asking about. Hope you liked the surprise of a little Fred and George mixed into the story. I was missing them.


	7. The Walls Come Down

_**Chapter 7: The Walls Come Down**_

Ron looked at her, stunned. He berated himself for his behaviour. "Why would you be sorry? You didn't abandon your best friends! You didn't ignore the two most important people in the world to you. You told me to take off the locket, and you were right, but I refused to listen. I was completely taken over with anger, consumed…by a feeling of betrayal that wasn't there—and I knew it wasn't there really. I couldn't help some of the things I said, but I still left you." He quickly corrected himself in case he had overstepped. "I left you and Harry to fend for yourselves and almost get killed. I'll never forgive myself. If I had lost you, I don't know what I would have…" He was shaking his head incredulously. He had to go forward with this, he decided. "I hurt _you_, and that is the last thing I wanted to do. I'm sorry. You can't know how sorry I am. There isn't a word big enough. I…"

She touched his hand, and their eyes met.

"Can you ever forgive me for leaving?" The pained look in his eyes betrayed an assumption that he'd hurt her more than he could ever repair. That's why Hermione had reacted the way she did to his return. He had crossed a line that she couldn't forgive. He had abandoned her when she had already lost so much. She had been losing her parents slowly since entering the wizarding world. She had practically sealed that loss when she wiped out her parents' memory of her. He knew how hard it had been on her. All she had left was Harry and himself and he had thrown it away. He had added salt to the wound when he left them. That was why she had closed herself off to him.

"I've become your worst nightmare." The sickened look on his face told her how genuinely ashamed he was. "You already lost so much…your parents, and I…I didn't mean to make you feel more deserted or feel as though I didn't care. I care more than you know and,"…_Oh bloody hell, I've just crossed the line. Well, no turning back now_. "And the way I left probably destroyed any hope for…more." He swallowed the imaginary lump in his throat, despite the fact that his mouth had gone dry.

The last word was said so softly that she almost didn't hear it. He was afraid to voice it, afraid once it was out loud, he could never hope for even their friendship to continue without it being awkward. Her dream was from almost five months ago. She may not feel that way now after all. And if their cool interactions of the past months were any indication, she had changed. But tonight, she seemed to be softening. In spite of himself, he was hopeful.

"Ron," she began as the tears formed and overflowed quickly. For a moment she could barely breathe. "You've become my worst nightmare _because_ I care about you so much, not because of the fear of fighting You-Know-Who without you. That never changed even though I have been mad at you. It was _you_ I missed. Staying was _never_ about choosing Harry, only helping with the mission. I don't feel that way for him, I never have. I've been almost cruel to you at times since you came back. I am sorry. I was afraid to let myself care about you because it hurt so much when you left. It hurt so much last year when you were—with her. I was miserable. But I don't think I can help it. No matter what I do, I still care. When you left, I was heartbroken. I…"

She was about to say it straight out when his right hand came up to caress her face, stopping her words, his thumb wiping away the tears falling down her cheek. Her heart skipped a beat at his touch.Their eyes meeting for the first time without hiding the feelings both had for the other.

_Ronald Weasley, if you don't kiss me now, I'll…_

He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. It was long and sweet and full of tenderness, and she wished it would never end. His left hand let go of hers and moved to wrap around her waist. Her hands moved to his torso and slid up his chest slowly, taking in the feel of him through his thin T-shirt. She felt him shutter, muscles rippling in the action. When did those develop, she thought. He hid his frame under clothes that did not complement him most of the time. It was another pleasant surprise. The pain in her shoulder was now a fleeting memory superimposed by the feel of his lips on hers, his tongue dancing with hers.

Their lips finally parted, and she slowly opened her eyes to his. In that moment she could feel every ounce of blood pumping through her she was so aware of all her senses.

"Hermione, I'm in love with you," he said almost breathless, but with purpose. He couldn't believe those words just escaped him after one kiss, but as he looked at her he knew it was true. The absolute terror he felt at the idea of losing her the night before had confirmed it for him. Damn, that was rushed, but after last night, what if he never got to say it to her again?

Her mouth opened trying to take in what he just said. "You love me?" she asked incredulously.

"Well—yeah." The self-confidence he had been gaining threatened to melt away.

It was like a dream. She wished she could bottle this moment and save it forever. Her body felt as though it was awakening for the first time; to the air, the texture of his shirt under her hands, the feeling of the mattress under her, the sudden weightlessness of her heart as it felt like it soared from her body. Wonder filled her eyes as she tried to voice it strongly, but a whisper came out instead as she choked overwhelmed with emotion on the words she had wanted to say for so long. "I love you, Ron. I …I have for a long time."

He was kissing her again, rising on his knees on the bed. She rose up to meet him, never letting her lips separate from his.

It was Ron holding her, making her body alive with excitement. The moment she had been dreaming of. The moment she had let go of more than four months ago when her hopes had crashed in front of her last November. She thought she had lost him forever and they would never see each other again.

His kiss felt like oxygen to an air deprived swimmer. She had been drowning in loneliness for him and now she was coming up for sustenance. She melted into it more and more trying to get to the source in every way she could. The sweetness changed to a hunger in both of them; a thirst to quench a desire that both had thought they could have easily missed out after the events of the previous night. Now it was coming true, tangible and real. Hermione felt like she didn't want to waste any more time. It wasn't as if this was the first time they met. They had been dancing around the chemistry between them for years. But they both knew they had to control this considering the circumstances. Hermione was drugged. Her welfare was more important, but she was not making that knowledge easy for Ron to follow through with.

Her tongue invaded Ron's mouth and he met it eagerly as every impulse for control began to leave him. They entwined inside each other, mimicking what they bodies wanted to do. Their chests moved against one another even harder, trying to merge. They could not get close enough. She wanted to memorize everywhere there was contact between them and how it felt. She wanted to relive this in dreams; the moment she was completely happy. Hermione exalted in the effect she had on him and the feelings he was creating in her. No magic, or books were needed here, this was all natural, just the two of them. They moved together, touched together, felt all together.

He lifted her slightly off the bed and pulled her up and into him even further. She protected her rib discreetly, but the action brought the reality of their situation back to him and he loosened his hold on her.

Reluctantly, he began to slow the pace and alter their kissing to smaller, quick encounters of their lips, trying to keep his head about him.

"Whoa. Uh, sorry." He shook his head trying to bring himself back to a calmer reality. It was not easy.

She shook her head. For an awful second she thought he regretted their actions, but then she realized that he thought he had hurt her in their enthusiasm.

"Not sorry." Grabbing at his shirt, she pulled him back in, bringing his lips back to hers. Her shirt gaped open, a glimpse of a lace trimmed purple tankshirt underneath, hiccupping his effort to stop. She was voraciously devouring him. She reached up with both hands, not caring about the pain in her shoulder, pulling on the back of his neck to maintain the connection. She had almost been robbed of the moment the night before, and was determined to not let it get in the way. But he saw her wince though she tried to pretend it hadn't happened. He broke the connection, he had to or he would never forgive himself. He pulled back and looked at her incredulously, and out of breath. Hermione never did things half way; friendship, loyalty, school, anger, and he should have realized—love.

"Always the look of amazement!" She echoed his earlier comment to her when he arrived on the broomstick with Tonks at the Burrow. It seemed so long ago.

He made sure their eyes met for seconds that seemed like an hour, a week. She could have gazed at eyes looking at her like that forever. Understanding was between them, they both wanted each other, but they both loved each other too. This was not a casual relationship, they had both done that and felt unsatisfied. There would be more for them. They kissed again, tenderness returning and they held each other. The potion was beginning to take effect again, she suppressed a yawn. They moved to sit back down on the bed, facing each other.

"If this is all we get to have together in this mess, I'll take it. As long as I know you know how much I love you. That you are not alone. Hermione, you are part of me, you are my heart. You have to understand..." he trailed off. He didn't want her thinking she could die and it not affect anyone so acutely. "What you said earlier, it ripped me apart."

"I didn't mean it like that, I meant my family."

"I know. Don't ever think that way again, please. I've wanted this for so long, but I didn't know how much until we were apart. When I came back, I thought I understood what you meant to me. It turns out I didn't know that much, not surprisingly. Last night everything came into focus when she was hurting you. If you had died, I…" He couldn't finish the thought out loud.

"I'm in this room, in your arms, because you rescued me. You saved me, Ron."

He shook his head. "Dobby and Harry had a part too."

She nodded. "Yes, but they were your arms that carried me here. I'm not always the coolest in a crisis, but I never thought of myself as the damsel in distress. But, since I was, I'm glad you were... my hero." She shook her head. "That sounds so corny, but, it's true." She looked as him with such love in her eyes it was almost palpable. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"This is so unfair; I'm going to fall asleep on you. If I do, don't take it personally, it's definitely the potion." She said as another yawn broke her composure. "There is nothing I want more than this moment with you—very bad timing. This is the strangest night."

"Thanks," he said, not quite sure how to take that.

"No, I mean every time I fall asleep I will be in such despair and fear, but at least when I wake up, I will be happy and in love…well, after I get over the nightmare that is; from the sublime to the ridiculous isn't it?"

"Stop analyzing it, love. And if I know you, at some point you're going to wonder if I'm here because Harry ordered it and all this came about because of him. Well, I'm not, and it didn't. I let him know I was staying with you. He didn't argue. I didn't expect things to turn out like this. I just hoped to earn your forgiveness and trust again, not just this tolerance and truce feeling. But right from the word "go", it was _my_ decision to stay with you." He had stayed with her whether she knew it or not all day. He had not been able sleep while she was in such pain.

"I'm glad. Thank you." _Did he just call me "love"? I like that._ Her heart soared as she fought a yawn.

He took a deep breath, and she could see he was troubled, but waited until he spoke.

"You're going to fall asleep again soon, so I've gotta get this out before I think too much the other way. I don't know what's going to happen. It feels like everything is going to explode any day now. I'm not sure if Harry's decision to go after the remaining Horcruxes instead of the Elder Wand is the right one, but I will help him no matter what. There is no damn locket that will make me act on fears inside and blow them out of proportion. But…"

He stopped and took another deep breath, unsure how to say what he wanted to say, but scared he might never get the chance again. Hermione was looking at him intently, but obviously trying to fight off still another yawn. "Here, lay down," he sympathized. He shifted his position and lay on his side next to her on the bed. He wanted to say what he needed to say before sleep overtook her again and the magic of this time together was interrupted, before he lost his nerve.

"I've been thinking a lot. During those weeks away from you, it drove me crazy, not knowing what was happening. It sort of made me realize what is really important to me, you. I came back because of the mission and Harry, of course, but just as important, it was you I had to get back to." He paused.

She interrupted, "And I treated you so horribly!"

He shook his head, "I deserved it. Although, it definitely wasn't the reunion I imagined it was going to be!" Then he continued his earlier thought. "I'm a Hogwarts drop out—and so are you." She looked at him, slightly offended. "Sorry to say it love, but you are. But, Hermione, the way I feel about you _right now_, I _know_ that if we survive this, I would go back to school, actually try, and in a few years, when I have something to offer, I would ask you to marry me."

Her eyes popped open wide, a yawn suppressed. Hermione couldn't believe he was actually talking about a real future together. They had only just kissed.

"I would never talk like this in a normal situation. I think you know that." She nodded; her eyes wide with shock. "I guess Mom's right, people grab on to whatever happiness they can find in case they are about to lose it in all this mess. But things are getting intense to say the least with what just happened to you. It scared the hell out of me, and I never told you."

His face clouded a moment as he reached toward her neck. Her heart began to race again at his touch. His finger traced the red scab that had now formed on her neck—left from Bellatrix' knife. A shudder ran through him. Hurt invaded his eyes, his face constricting slightly as he fought for control over not just pain but anger at her ordeal.

"I thought I was going to lose you and I had never told you. I just—thought you need to know. Well, I need you to know in case something happens; if I don't make it and you were left wondering. I need to know that you understand how much you mean to me, that this isn't just a fling."

Part of her wanted to berate him for thinking negatively, but another part of her understood completely and needed to say what she wanted for the future for them too. She was Muggle-born, and considering the torture she had just endured, her death seemed more likely than Ron's because she was already targeted with so much more hatred than he was just for being a sympathizer.

"That's how I felt last year when you were poisoned. If you had died then, while we were fighting…it tore me apart. Feeling the way I do _right now_, I know I would say "yes"." He smiled at her and his lips lovingly found hers again.

"I wonder if we'll ever get to that point." She smiled at him. "By the way, since we're on the line of thought, I will want children, plural. I don't want a child to be lonely the way I was and sink every moment into education just to fill up the hours."

"Kids, eh! How many? Oh, it doesn't matter. I want that too someday; a noisy household like how I grew up." His voice turned so bright and energetic, it was hard not to smile at his reaction. "Someday. Long ways off from this," he said as his eyes circled the room.

"Sounds like a wonderful goal," she yawned.

They kissed again and suddenly she pulled back. "Um, did we just get engaged?"

He laughed, "Only if we live, love. Plus, we should probably date a while; see if we can stand each other under normal circumstances, although we've already lived together, sort of, haven't we? We are only 18 remember? But, I suppose you could look at it that way, yeah. I'll do better next time, promise. You girls like that down on one knee thing," he grinned.

She laughed, "I think you boys like it just as much. It's your moment. My, Ronald Weasley, you're a fast mover! Who would have thought? One night!"

He laughed again. "Seven years and one night! Not that fast!" His lips sought out hers again, and they savoured each other and their time together before the drug would take her again.

"I'm glad you don't think I'm being morbid by telling you all this."

"Morbid that you love me? Thanks!" She laughed at his shocked look and she brought her hand up to caress his face as if it were fine porceline. "I understand how you are feeling. This world is in quite a mess. I'll take whatever happiness is meant for us. But, I still want it all Ron."

"Me too. You know, I hate to say this, but I think we'll have to hide this with everyone around, especially Harry. He needs to be able to focus and not worry about two lovebirds. Everything has to be as much back to normal as possible, three best friends on a mission for Dumbledore. You know I love you, I know you love me. Will that be all right, can you do it? Just act…normal, again?"

"For us, I feel like I can do anything. But really, Ron, I think Harry knows I'm in love with you. He came looking for me, um, the night of the birds." Her eyes lowered, she would not go into more detail than that about the night she first saw Ron and Lavender snogging. He lowered his eyes in shame, wincing. "He probably heard me cry into my pillow almost every night while you were gone. I wasn't exactly secretive about it the first week anyway. I was so mad at Harry for driving the argument when you were wearing the Horcrux. I almost told him I hated him when I went back into the tent—and when we Apparated to the next location, I fell apart. I thought I'd lost you forever."

"_Almost_ every night?"

"Yes, Ron. I wasn't _that_ pathetic. There were some nights when I was just too angry to cry; others where I just felt too numb to feel anything." She thought for a moment. "I guess we'll understand how Harry is doing it."

"Doing what?"

"Pretending. Just trying not to let it show how much he's missing Ginny. When he thought I was asleep, he would take out the Marauder's Map. I don't think he was looking for Neville!"

Ron looked at Hermione with a puzzled look.

"Oh please Ron, don't be so "mental". If anything that snogging between them on his birthday showed, it was how much he was already missing her and I'm pretty sure he is in love with her, if not, he's damn close. I'm not sure he knows himself. He'd been watching her for months, you know, even while she was going out with Dean, pretending just regular curiosity about whatever she was doing, but you could tell if you were paying attention. Although, you were rather busy at the time. Don't guys talk at all about stuff like that?"

"Are _you_ mental? No! Not unless you're with someone you don't really care about that much, and you're just... showing off. Besides," he shifted uncomfortably, "She's my sister."

She yawned. "True. He couldn't confide in you that his feelings toward her had changed, could he? He would have been afraid of your reaction then, but I don't think that is the case now. He misses her too much. If pushed, he will choose her, you know." She yawned again, noticing him bristle. "Ron, think. You know Harry. He is a good guy. Decent, respectful, loyal, smart, and he's protective. What kind of guy would you want Ginny to be with? He broke up with her to protect her from being too close to him, You-Know-Who's target. Can you imagine though, when all this is over? If they got married and we did, we'd all actually be family."

"Hmm. This isn't the first time you've thought about this, is it?" He looked at her suspiciously, eyes narrowed. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about them anymore, OK?"

"Well, tonight we have each other."

"For better _and_ worse, apparently," he mused.

She smiled sleepily at the terms he used. She reached over and pulled his face to hers. Their eyes meeting again with a new understanding of what lay behind each. Eyes that were so familiar to her, yet they communicated so much more now than ever; love, trust, protection, security, and even commitment. The long, loving kiss that followed felt like an extension of his eyes and she fell asleep in his arms, happy.

A/N: I actually don't think Ron and Hermione would keep a change in their relationship from Harry. However, since I want to move the story to join up with JKR's, where there is no hint of change, I figured this was the way to do it. This is the reason for this fic. I never understood Jo's ignoring them for a hundred pages between his screaming for her from the cellar at Malfoy Manor to her suddenly jumping into his arms. To me, there wasn't enough lead in, actually there was no lead up to the kiss. Hence this story, but even more the reason why I wrote Muggle Born Revenge. Anyway, more dreams to come, and Harry will be taken to task for his behaviour too.


	8. I Heard You Calling My Name

_**Chapter 8: I Heard You Calling My Name**_

Ron stared at the girl in his arms a moment, amazed at what had just transpired between them. His eyes drank her in, he swallowed, slightly overwhelmed at being able to finally hold her and look at her without hiding anything from her now. He felt giddy and he didn't care what anyone else thought if they found out. He did not like the idea of hiding this relationship. He wanted to shout it out through the house, but perhaps they could let things open up slowly around Harry. A sigh escaped him as he reluctantly released her, knowing what could come next. He got up and put the towel and brush back in the bathroom, came back to the side of the bed with water and arranged the new bowl Fleur had left on the night table for a quick grab just in case. He lay down on the bed beside her, pulled her to him and held her. He watched as her sleep turned from peaceful to agitated within a minute; the potion speeding up her sleep cycles at an incredible rate.

The next nightmare was the torture incident. He wrapped his arms around her protectively, talking to her gently to get her through it. Again she doubled trying to protect her abdomen, this time he felt her reel back on her left side, reflecting the blows hitting her shoulder. She screamed over and over, the same as before, but this time it was harder to get her out of the dream while under the drug. Her left leg jerked up as she reached to protect her ankle, her face contorting in pain. He clenched his teeth, holding back the tears that threatened him as he watched her pain, and relived his own terror in the cellar. He could swear he could hear Bellatrix yell "_Crucio!_"

She could hear him calling her name distantly. It seemed she had to go through the whole torture before he could bring her out of it. Her body arced and crumpled as she relived the Cruciatus Curse in her subconscious, her own screams didn't wake her up. Her heart was racing. A new layer of perspiration was all over her, her almost dry hair newly matted to her head. His heart ached as he watched the pain and fear contort her face, the desperation for it to stop was there too. Tears slid down his face.

Suddenly, his voice reached her in the fog of the Malfoy Manor, and her eyes were open and she shook uncontrollably. Ron held her and spoke to her and reassured her. "It's just a dream." She heard him. "It's over, it's all over. They can't touch you. She can't hurt you now. You're at Shell Cottage, remember? Look around you. Everyone is safe. Harry is downstairs. He's fine. We got out. I've got you. No one is going to hurt you now. I promise." She clung to him like a lifeline as she cried, purging her system from that particular episode. After a moment he asked her, "You're very pale again. Do you feel sick?" When she shook her head, he added, "Well, there's an improvement already." Footsteps outside the door moved away slowly. Ron hadn't realized someone had come to help if necessary, probably Harry.

"I could hear you, calling my name," she voiced between sobs.

"Yeah." He rubbed her back, assuming she meant just the moment before in her dream.

"During the torture—I could hear you yelling my name from downstairs. It's what got me through it."

He pulled back and was looking at her in wonder. How could it matter? He hadn't been able to stop the torture.

"As they took you away," she sniffled. "I saw your face. You were terrified…for me. You pleaded for them to take you instead." Her heart was still racing and she trembled as she fought to get her senses together enough to explain.

"You remember that?"

She nodded and sniffled and took hold of his hand, gazing directly at him. "I remember what you did for me…I thought I saw love there, but I was so terrified that today, as I just sat around thinking, I just figured it was what I wanted to see. Afterall, I'd been so mean to you, on purpose. How could you care that much? But, I focused on that, and your voice yelling from below. When it got really bad, I just went inside myself somewhere and thinking of you got me through. I felt so alone, open to death if it would just stop. Then I would hear you. Your voice pulled me back from giving up. I…I thought you should know. It was because of you that I didn't give in to her," she panted.

Her eyes showed how much she was in love with him as she looked at him. She was completely vulnerable to him and he realized just how easily he had been hurting her in the past. Her defense walls completely battered down in that moment; no dripping sarcasm, no anger, no hiding behind books and icy stares anymore for them. His defences down now too, he was completely open to all they could have together if only they had the time.

"You didn't imagine seeing love. I do love you. I love you. I love you." He repeated it for her to hold on to now. He pulled her close and held her tight. He thought those words would be so hard to say and suddenly they flowed out of him like water in a meandering stream; nothing blocked it now. She began to weep and so did he. Their arms wrapped around each other, loving and protecting each other from the pain. An act of torture meant to tear them apart had actually brought them closer together. He had still been a strength to her even when he felt the most helpless and desperate in his whole life. They cried together, a cathartic release from the hell caused by Bellatrix Lestrange.

His senses returned to him and he grabbed for the glass of water and insisted she drink it immediately. Now that they were so close, she became much more conscious of herself. Her body was covered in sweat, she wanted to change her clothes, but her energy was low. Picking her up, he carried her to the ensuite, again he sat her down on the toilet lid and washed her face with a cool cloth until she a little more life showed in her eyes. He reached outside the bathroom door to the dresser beside it where Hermione had piled her night clothes and grabbed a set.

"I'll leave you to change when you're ready." She nodded and a minute later she indicated she felt ready to stand on her own and take care of herself. He left her reluctantly and went back to the chair.

A knock at the door startled Ron out of his daydream of kissing her again. He looked up, eyes exhausted and bloodshot. "Come in."

Harry appeared with a two cups of tea. "Thought you could use this to help you stay awake and a little comfort for her." Ron accepted gratefully and then wanted to kick Harry out of the room. "How is she doing?" Harry could not hide the guilt in his eyes. Ron immediately felt bad. Harry was scared for her too, and he felt helpless. "Do you want me to take over?" He looked at his friend appraisingly.

"No. You get some sleep. I think the worst of it is over. She wasn't sick this time, but…"

"The screams…"

"Yeah. This one really exhausted her. Needed help to get to the bathroom. But she's coming 'round."

Hermione opened the door and saw Harry there. "Hi Harry. Did I scare the whole house?"

"Maybe a little. Just needed to see that you were OK for myself." He came over and gave her a hug. "Anything I can do?"

She shook her head and quietly got back into bed, accepting the night ahead of her and deciding now to meet it straight on. After those two dreams, she could handle anything she thought.

Harry nodded. "Right, Ok, good night." He quirked his head at the simple platitude that was obviously out of joint tonight. When he left the room, Ron stood immediately and got into bed with her and gathered her to him. They had only ten minutes or so of being together before the potion took over again and she was asleep in his arms, peacefully one moment, terror filled the next.


	9. Long Overdue Ch 9

_**Long Overdue**_

"Stop it! You're Harry Potter! Do you hear me? Harry Potter! Don't give in Harry!"

Ron gripped her tightly. The brief spasm of jealousy over her dreaming about Harry disappeared as he realized she was overtaken by fear again. He listened intently through clenched teeth. As she went on, he realized the nightmare was about the night Harry was attacked by Nagini, a night they had almost died and he wasn't there to help. Guilt attacked him again as he truly began to realize how afraid she had been that night, just two nights before he had returned.

"You are Harry Potter. Please remember, you are Harry Potter. You are a Gryffindor. You play Quidditch. You are seeker, and a great one at that. You have friends Harry Potter. You-Know-Who has followers. You have people who love you. The Dark Lord has only people who fear and obey him. You are not alone. He is. Harry Potter cares about people. He only cares about power. You are Harry Potter. No! No! Listen to me, it's Hermione. I am with you. I chose to stay with you, to help. You are my friend. Fight to stay with me. Don't lose yourself to him, pleeeease."

Her words were of fear for losing Harry to death or into Voldemort's mind. That panic seemed to merge in her high pitched pleading to their friend. She had gone through a terrifying night alone, doing what he was doing now for her, but on such a deeper and possibly fatal level. Ron felt sick and ashamed. Then her voice turned into one of personal despair.

"I've lost him. He left me. Don't you leave me too, Harry. Please, I can't bare to lose anymore right now. My parents, him, school, not you, please not you too. Fight Harry, please fight. Stay with me. Please, stay. Please, live."

He knew she was talking about him, though she had not said his name. He realized that while she was terrified of losing Harry, Ron was still paramount in her mind. She had lost so much, but once they had left the Burrow, she never complained. But he had noticed that whenever she wore the locket, she would look at pictures of her parents she had hidden in some of her books.

Suddenly, she woke and stared at him blankly. Silently tears began to fall. His hand came up to caress her face and he realized, this time, it was Harry she needed—not him. And it was OK. There was no jealousy in the pit of his stomach as he made his decision. This time, she was going to leave the room and seek her reassurance, he thought. He'd make sure of it and in so doing, show her that he truly trusted her love for him.

He took her hand, "Come with me." He led her downstairs to the sitting room where Harry was stretched out on a recliner, trying to sleep. He sat up immediately as she entered the room shakily as Ron guided her. "Harry? She needs to see you're OK." At Harry's questioning look, Ron answered simply "Nagini."

Comprehension crossed Harry's face. Suddenly, he remembered Hermione waking with a start and in a sweat on Christmas Day. He had been absorbed in disappointment over his broken wand and hadn't even bothered to see if she was OK. He realized he wasn't always the best friend he could be. Somedays, he had to admit, he could be a little self-centered, although not without cause.

Ron turned to Dean, Fleur and Bill, "They need to talk a moment." The three immediately stood up and left the room with Ron who looked at Harry and nodded his head. It was a silent acceptance for Harry to be close to her and his understanding that nothing untoward would occur between them. The locket had been destroyed, the air cleared between them. For the first time he could remember, Ron was encouraging the embrace he knew was in the offing between his friends. He left them alone to talk and returned to the bedroom upstairs to wait.

Harry closed the gap between himself and Hermione, taking her hand. "Hey. What is it? How can I help you."

The memory of the dream was still very fresh. Hermione whispered, "I…dreamed of Christmas Eve, Nagini, you…You almost died. I was so scared. I thought you were disappearing into him. Fever, thought you were going to …Oh, I'm sorry…it's all so fresh, so real with this potion…so strong. Need to tell you, how important you are to me…" She broke down crying and Harry pulled her close and held on to her.

"You're alright. You're safe. I'm safe. I'm alive because of you." A few moments passed and a conversation that should have taken place on Christmas morning finally happened. "I didn't want to say anything when I woke up. I was so embarrassed, Hermione, humiliated that he could get in my head so easily and…the things I saw.

"Your parents trying to protect you, their deaths," she confirmed what he assumed she knew. The sadness in her eyes for him was palpable.

He nodded dejectedly. "But I heard you. I heard you talking to me. You kept saying my name, and talking about my life. You pulled me back, Hermione. You saved me. I was a real git in the morning. I was so focused on myself, my wand, I was too embarrassed to even ask how you managed to get me back through the boundary. I'm alive thanks to you." She sobbed into his chest, her arms around his waist. He held her tightly until she calmed down and when they looked at each other, his eyes were a little wet too.

"You're my best friend too, you know. I love you too," Harry said and he kissed her forehead. She smiled, squeezing his hand and after a few moments she indicated she was ready to go back.

"You know, this is exhausting. This potion."

"It will all be over soon. Water?" Harry asked.

"I'm sure Ron will have a glass waiting for me on the night table. He is very persistent about the water. He's taking this very seriously." She smiled exhaustedly. "He's a good nurse. Don't tell him I said that."

"You haven't been sick again?"

"No. That part seems to be over." Harry looked put out. "What?" she questioned.

"I didn't warrant a vomit. I think I'm hurt!" he said with a playful pout. She looked at him as if he were mad and then started to laugh. "There's my girl!" he smiled at her admiringly.

"Hmmm…to quote a certain friend of ours, I think you're a nutter!"

"Well, who wouldn't be after what we've been through?"

He escorted her back upstairs where they found Ron sitting in the chair, waiting with his socked feet up on the bed, his fingers laced together over his stomach.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"That's OK, been busy counting the squares in the ceiling tiles—one hundred and forty-four in each if you're wondering." He stood to meet them. He and Harry's eyes met in understanding and they mirrored each other's protective smile over Hermione. Like a tag team, Harry handed her off to Ron's care again and left the room. Ron handed her some water to drink and she complied immediately.

"Alright now?" he asked as he took the empty glass from her.

"Much better, thank you. You were right. I needed that." She said as he walked to her and his arms encircled her. "I also need this at the moment." She tilted her head up to him and their lips met lovingly. "Hmmm. Stubble." She pulled back and looked at him, the backs of her fingers playing with the light layer forming on his chin.

"Sorry. Shaving is not exactly the priority right now. At least I didn't think it would be tonight to be honest."

She looked at him appraisingly, a smile spreading mischievously across her face. "Well, it doesn't feel fantastic, but," she bit her lip, "it looks very nice on you. Rugged, sexy," she admitted as her eyebrows rose suggestively.

Ron eyes widened in surprise. "Good to know."

**A/N: The dream of Harry almost didn't make it into this fic because I wrote the whole missing scene in another FF, so if I ever publish that one, you'll feel a little déjà vu for a couple of paragraphs—if you read it that is.**

**We get to see Fleur briefly in this chapter, but thankfully, I didn't have to write her dialogue. That really isn't fun. Jo must have someone's voice in her head when she writes it. **

**Can't say how amazed and glad I am by your reactions to my story. Thank you, sincerely. HeRonFan (Countdown: 2weeks to DH Part 1!)**


	10. A Moment's Peace Ch 10

_**Chapter 10: A Moment's Peace**_

"_Reverso Amnesia Hermione Granger!" " Appello Wendel and Monika Granger!" " Domus England! Reverso! Reverso! _No, sir, I'm your daughter! Please, listen to me!" She woke with a start. "Dad! Mum!"

Ron's arms tightened around her. He knew her parent's situation was going to pop up at some time during the night. She had cried so much after putting the memory charm on them; he couldn't see her fears not invading her dreams. Her eyes suddenly jerked open and the look of distress crossed her beautiful features. "They are safe in Australia, away from all this. They are safe, Hermione." He rubbed her back soothingly.

"I couldn't remove the charm! It didn't work! They'll never get their lives back. I'll never have my family back!" she cried anxiously.

"Yes, you will," he said calmly. "A dream, Hermione; it was just a dream. Remember, you're the smartest witch of our age. There's no way Hermione Granger is not going to be able to reverse a memory modifyer and you know it deep down. You know it."

She smiled up at him as he cuddled her, a hand caressing her face. "You have a lot of confidence in me."

"Years of practice," he smiled as his thumb traced her cheek back and forth like he was touching a priceless object. Before he completely lost himself in her eyes, he bent his head to kiss her softly.

She drank in his kiss and felt like she could melt into him. Their embrace deepened, love and attraction and need all wrapped up in each other's arms. A moan escaped her as her body came alive under in his hands.

Finally needing air, they broke apart. "I would like years of practice doing that," he commented breathlessly.

She smiled seductively at him. "I could handle that," as her hand roamed down his backside.

He dropped his head back. "You're going to kill me, looking at me like that." He had to stop himself from thinking of her hand on his butt.

"Killing you is not what I had in mind," she said, but couldn't prevent a yawn from overtaking her. "Grrr. This is sooo not fair. It's the potion."

"Ah, right. Water. Now." He shook his head, trying to get his mind back on track. She had not broken out into a major sweat this time. So he reduced the requirement to one cup, finally.

After the water, she felt better, settled back into bed and snuggled into Ron. The chair long forgotten, he lay back down on the bed beside her after setting up more water for the next round. He held her close while she slept and dreamed the rest of the night.

Their lives were so intertwined, he recognized everything she dreamed: fear her parents would be killed by Voldemort, fear for Harry when he was to battle the dragon, the year he had shut her out when he thought Crookshanks had killed Scabbers, her despair when he dated Lavender, the way the Yule Ball ended, and the fear of being petrified again. Ron figured prominently in several dreams which made him feel slightly sick. He had been such a git. Then one dream made him laugh to himself, and shake his head. Her boggart was Professor McGonagall telling her she failed all her exams. He made a mental note to tease her about it later when she was feeling better.

It occurred to him that Hermione had been essentially alone in the girls' dormitory. He and Harry knew when each other had nightmares and could give each other a shake and talk briefly to calm their nerves. It had never occurred to him that she had nightmares about their experiences too, and could not confide them in anyone close to her over there, when she could have used some help. He felt badly all of a sudden. Once in a while she had mentioned at breakfast that she had had a dream but she had not complained greatly. Yet here was the evidence of her terrors over the years.

After each dream, she was a little better. She drank the required water, took more medicine, and changed her night clothes one more time, but she would not be separated from Ron, nor he from her. She clung to his heart beat, giving reassurance that he was there. He had not left her. She had not trusted anyone in her life the way she did him. He now knew everything she feared and it was alright. He had stayed throughout everything. He loved her. She could not see herself loving anyone else but him.

At 7am Hermione woke up without a dream, a lazy, contented peace over her entire body. She looked at Ron, asleep, lying on his stomach, his arm across her protectively. She thought of a future, smiled, and then quickly put it out of her mind. There was the mission, and possibly even a war to come. They could not afford to be self-indulgent. It could get in the way, cloud judgement. There would be no chance at that future if they couldn't focus on the mission they had to do. One more close call might change those ideas, but for now...

Hermione leaned into him and savoured the closeness a moment longer and kissed him. He responded even in his sleep. "I love you, Ronald Weasley. The nightmares are over. I can't tell you how much this means to me that you stayed the whole way through."

He rolled on to his side to take in this vision in front of him. A smile played with the corners of his mouth. He reached for her and kissed her soundly, his fingers running through her hair the way he had dreamed he could. "How do you feel?" he asked huskily as their lips parted. He caressed her cheek and studied her sparkling eyes. He glanced at his watch. The last nightmare was just after six. They had slept perhaps thirty minutes; the most during the whole night.

"I actually feel… wonderful. I feel like I've slept the night through, I feel like I can handle everything now. Wicked potion, it puts you through hell, but it does the job. So tonight, I can go to sleep without any fear, thanks to you and Luna." She leaned into him, tickling his face with her hair as she snaked herself into a position lying on top of him and initiated a passionate lingering kiss. His hands travelled her body, marvelling at being able to touch her. He wrapped her in his arms, caressing her and making her feel even more secure, cherished and loved. They kissed again and again, not wanting their time together to end.

She pulled back and studied his features. "Ron, I love you… but you still look like hell. My God! You haven't slept in almost three days, not a real sleep anyway. You need some sleep."

"Thanks! But, the rest of the house will be up soon, and I don't want to miss out on anything with you while we've got this time together."

"Lie back and sleep. I'll watch over you now, and take care of you."

"Slacker! Easy job compared to what I did!" he smirked. She swatted him and he caught her hand and kissed it. With a mischievous grin, he flipped her over on to her back and lay on top of her, his weight slight on her, but enough to push her breasts up protruding slightly from her shirt. Both were suddenly aware of the new exposure, causing pulses to race, breaths to quicken. His lips began a trail down her neck that brought new, wonderful sounds forth from her as she arched her body to give him more access. He took her hands up over her head and from fingertips to hips, they roved over her body. The passion between them, long at bay and denied was so palpable, it hurt. They craved each other so badly, but this was not the time.

"God, I want you." In that moment she would do anything he wanted. She had waited so long for him to see her this way. The desire in his eyes was so plain for a moment until reason veiled it.

"But, you deserve more than this. We do. Alone, just us to do as we want, whenever, however."

"Yes, when we are ready," she reluctantly agreed.

"I love you."

"I love you, more than I can say, Ron." She smiled and then laughed slightly.

"What?"

"Well, this may sound odd, but I don't think any girl ever thinks a guy is going to say I love you after he's seen her vomit, and be a psychological and emotional mess, look like this…"

"What? Beautiful?"

"Hmph."

"Hermione, you are." He shook his head slightly at the mere incomprehension of herself, but still wondered a bit why she would love him. His hand caressed her face as if it there was nothing more precious to him in the world. "Mind, body, heart and soul; you simply are."

She stared at him as warmth from her heart took over her body. "Thank you." She just took a moment to look at him with all the love she could put into her eyes. "If there is such a thing as happiness anymore in this world, I think this is it. Having my best friend feel about me how I feel about him. Everything you've done for me tonight absolutely screams how much you make me feel cared for. That's what I've always loved about you; how loyal you are to those you care about, how much you would put on the line for them. Ginny, five years ago, Harry well constantly let's face it, the constant worry you carry with you about your family's safety, and now me. Actually, I've always felt it to a degree. You never backed down when it came to something you believed in. You always defended me from people like Malfoy. You have the biggest heart, and the best sense of humor of anyone I know. You can always make me smile and laugh even in the worst times. You are so special to me, and you make me feel special, cared for, loved, and respected. There's also the fact that I think you're a very good looking man," she bit her lip sheepishly. "My day is not complete unless you are part of it in some way. I want you to be part of it in a big way, for a very long time."

Now he had his answer and his lips went searching for hers again. "God, I love you."

"I love you. Now, sleep before you fall asleep in the middle of kissing me and I take it personally!" she smiled at him.

"I don't think that could happen," he said almost dreamily. She looked at him in sympathy, knowing he couldn't last and she gently pushed his head down on the pillow next to her and he reluctantly accepted her proposal. He lay back, holding her hand on his chest, over his heart. Hermione lay down next to him and their eyes locked, and just took each other in for a few moments before his eyes finally closed as sleep overtook him, a soft contented smile etched on his face.

She watched him a little while longer. Her eyes teared. She didn't think she could cry any more after the night she just had, mixed with everything good and bad. But her chest tightened and the tears that escaped were for happiness. She knew these were the last few moments they had together, but she also knew, Ron needed the little bit of sleep he was finally getting.

Later, she got up and limped to the kitchen to make breakfast. She searched through the fridge for his favorites, hoping that the action would be repeated often in the future, and reciprocated. It was the least she could do.

"You're up early," said a familiar voice.

Hermione swung around from the fridge to see Harry lying with a blanket over him in a recliner he had moved to the kitchen.

"Oh, Harry! You startled me. What are doing sleeping in the kitchen?"

"Too many people in the living room. I can't believe it, but Bill snores even louder than Ron. Must be a Weasley thing. I can't believe Fleur is used to that." He smiled remembering all the nights in their dorm and then in the tent, wanting to throw a pillow at Ron to make him stop snoring. Once or twice he actually did.

She looked pensive. Then Harry's voice brought the moment back to her. "How are you? You look," he put on his glasses, "a lot better. Your face is back to normal. What about, um, everything else?"

"If you mean physically, well, I feel a lot better. My ankle, shoulder and my ribs on the left here are still a little tender so I thought I'd pamper them a little longer and not put too much weight on my ankle yet. Another day should do the trick it seems. About the other, well, I feel…refreshed. It feels like it happened five years ago. I remember the anger, hurt, fear, pain, but it is distanced now. It's just like Luna said. But, I don't know how I would have gotten through it all if Ron hadn't been there. He was…really great. Surprised I didn't scare him out of the room when my stomach turned. Speaking of which, thanks for cleaning that up. Now, I thought I'd make Ron breakfast as a thank you for sticking it out."

Harry had got out of the chair. He walked over to her and hugged her, smiling with relief. "Number one: there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. A little turned stomach is nothing compared to some of the things we've been going through. Number two," his eyes moved up to above the fridge and he took down a box of Miniature Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. "It seems Bill has the same sweet tooth."

"Oh, Harry! Good eye! He'll love that! Thank you!" She hugged him enthusiastically.

"Hey, what's going on?" Ron said from the doorway at the end of the room.

"Ronald Weasley, go back to bed or you'll ruin my surprise." Hermione admonished as she let go of Harry and began chasing him from the room, forgetting to favour her ankle.

More relief entered Harry as he smirked and thought: she's back to normal! All she needs now is a wagging finger pointed at Ron! He returned to his recliner.

"What?" he said indignantly. "I was just making sure you were all right and I get my throat jumped down."

She looked at him directly and winked. "Maybe later," she whispered. "Thanks, I'm fine. I feel much better. Now, off you go. Out!" She began shooing him out of the room. She whispered again: "Act normal, right?"

He looked at Harry for help. Settling back in his chair, Harry just shook his head and raised his hands as if to say he wasn't touching this one. Ron rolled his eyes and turned around, shaking his head.

"Gees," he said and left the room to go back to bed, a smile slowly spreading across his face as he turned back to Hermione and winked at her, and mouthed I love you to her.

Hermione blushed and her lips formed the words back to him, unseen by Harry. She lingered a moment at the doorway and then turned back to her task.

**A/N: Well, I hope you liked it. Before anyone asks, yes I did consider the poisoning scene as a dream. I thought it was not a lingering fear that would haunt her. There was a start and stop to the situation, it was resolved. By the time she went to bed, he was on the mend. I also felt it would drag the story a bit, as the issue of her love for Ron and fear of losing him was clearly dealt with in the worst nightmare. Although, I admit, it would have been fun.**

**I don't think I'll post the alternate beginning of Dobby arriving at Shell Cottage with the first group of escapees after all. I think I like the debut to be Ron and Hermione all the way. Thank you for the wonderful words of support. You've all given me the nerve to publish a few more fics. HeRonFan**


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